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Its normal condition is +rustic peace and sleepy beatitude; and it pursues the even tenor of +its way undisturbed by anything more exciting than a meeting of the +vestry, the parish dinner, the advent of a new curate, or the exit +of one of the fathers of the hamlet.</p> +<p>But this morning the place is all agog, and so transformed that +it hardly knows itself. The entire population, from the oldest +gaffer to the last-born baby, is out-of-doors; the two inns are +thronged with guests, and the road is lined with all sorts and +conditions of carriages, from the four-in-hand of the wealthy swell +to the donkey-cart of the local coster-monger. From every point of +the compass are trooping horsemen, some resplendent in scarlet +coats, their nether limbs clothed in immaculate white breeches and +shining top-boots, others in pan hats and brown leggings; and all +in high spirits and eager for the fray; for to-day, according to +old custom, the Essex Hunt hold the first regular meet of the +season on Matching’s matchless Green.</p> +<p>The master is already to the fore, and now comes Tom Cuffe, the +huntsman, followed by his hounds, whose sleek skins and bright +coats show that they are “fit to go,” and whose eager +looks bode ill to the long-tailed denizens of copse and covert.</p> +<p>It still wants a few minutes to eleven, and the interval is +occupied in the interchange of greetings between old companions of +the chase, in desultory talk about horses and hounds; and while +some of the older votaries of Diana fight their battles o’er +again, and describe thrice-told historic runs, which grow longer +with every repetition, others discuss the prospects of the coming +season, and indulge in hopes of which, let us hope, neither Jack +Frost, bad scent, nor accident by flood or field will mar the +fruition.</p> +<p>Nearly all are talking, for there is a feeling of +<em>camaraderie</em> in the hunting-field which dispenses with the +formality of introductions, its frequenters sometimes becoming +familiar friends before they have learned each other’s +names.</p> +<p>Yet there are exceptions; and one cavalier in particular appears +to hold himself aloof, neither speaking to his neighbors nor mixing +in the throng. As he does not look like a “sulky +swell,” rendered taciturn by an overweening sense of his own +importance, he is probably either a new resident in the county or a +“stranger from a distance”—which, none whom I ask +seems to know. There is something about this man that especially +attracts my attention; and not mine alone, for I perceive that he +is being curiously regarded by several of my neighbors. His get-up +is faultless, and he sits with the easy grace of a practiced +horseman an animal of exceptional symmetry and strength. His +well-knit figure is slim and almost youthful, and he holds himself +as erect on his saddle as a dragoon on parade. But his closely +cropped hair is turning gray, and his face that of a man far +advanced in the fifties, if not past sixty. And a striking face it +is—long and oval, with a straight nose and fine nostrils, a +broad forehead, and a firm, resolute mouth. His complexion, though +it bears traces of age, is clear, healthy, and deeply bronzed. Save +for a heavy gray mustache, he is clean shaved; his dark, keenly +observant eyes are overshadowed by black and all but straight +brows, terminating in two little tufts, which give his countenance +a strange and, as some might think, an almost sardonic expression. +Altogether, it strikes me as being the face of a cynical yet not +ill-natured or malicious Mephistopheles.</p> +<p>Behind him are two grooms in livery, nearly as well mounted as +himself, and, greatly to my surprise, he is presently joined by Jim +Rawlings, who last season held the post of first whipper-in.</p> +<p>What manner of man is this who brings out four horses on the +same day, and what does he want with them all? Such horses, too! +There is not one of them that has not the look of a two +hundred-guinea hunter.</p> +<p>I was about to put the question to Keyworth, the hunt secretary, +who had just come within speaking distance, and was likely to know +if anybody did, when the master gave the signal for a move, and +huntsman and hounds, followed by the entire field, went off at a +sharp trot.</p> +<p>We had a rather long ride to covert, but a quick find, a fox +being viewed away almost as soon as the hounds began to draw. It +was a fast thing while it lasted, but, unfortunately, it did not +last long; for, after a twenty minutes’ gallop, the hounds +threw up their heads, and cast as Cuffe might, he was unable to +recover the line.</p> +<p>The country we had gone over was difficult and dangerous, full +of blind fences and yawning ditches, deep enough and wide enough to +swallow up any horse and his rider who might fail to clear them. +Fortunately, however, I escaped disaster, and for the greater part +of the run I was close to the gentleman with the Mephistophelian +face and Tom Rawlings, who acted as his pilot. Tom rode well, of +course—it was his business—but no better than his +master, whose horse, besides being a big jumper, was as clever as a +cat, flying the ditches like a bird, and clearing the blindest +fences without making a single mistake.</p> +<p>After the first run we drew two coverts blank, but eventually +found a second fox, which gave us a slow hunting run of about an +hour, interrupted by several checks, and saved his brush by taking +refuge in an unstopped earth.</p> +<p>By this time it was nearly three o’clock, and being a long +way from home, and thinking no more good would be done, I deemed it +expedient to leave off. I went away as Mephistopheles and his man +were mounting their second horses, which had just been brought up +by the two grooms in livery.</p> +<p>My way lay by Matching Green, and as I stopped at the village +inn to refresh my horse with a pail of gruel and myself with a +glass of ale, who should come up but old Tawney, Tom Cuffe’s +second horseman! Besides being an adept at his calling, familiar +with every cross-road and almost every field in the county, he knew +nearly as well as a hunted fox himself which way the creature meant +to run. Tawney was a great gossip, and quite a mine of curious +information about things equine and human—especially about +things equine. Here was a chance not to be neglected of learning +something about Mephistopheles; so after warming Tawney’s +heart and opening his lips with a glass of hot whiskey punch, I +began:</p> +<p>“You’ve got a new first whip, I see.”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir, name of Cobbe—Paul Cobbe. He comes from +the Berkshire country, he do, sir.”</p> +<p>“But how is it that Rawlings has left? and who is that +gentleman he was with to-day?”</p> +<p>“What! haven’t you heard!” exclaimed Tawney, +as surprised at my ignorance as if I had asked him the name of the +reigning sovereign.</p> +<p>“I have not heard, which, seeing that I spent the greater +part of the summer at sea and returned only the other day, is +perhaps not greatly to be wondered at.”</p> +<p>“Well, the gentleman as Rawlings has gone to and as he was +with to-day is Mr. Fortescue; him as has taken +Kingscote.”</p> +<p>Kingscote was a country-house of no extraordinary size, but with +so large a park and gardens, conservatories and stables so +extensive as to render its keeping up very costly; and the owner or +mortgagee, I know not which, had for several years been vainly +trying to let it at a nominal rent.</p> +<p>“He must be rich, then. Kingscote will want a lot of +keeping up.”</p> +<p>“Rich is not the word, sir. He has more money than he +knows what to do with. Why, he has twenty horses now, and is +building loose-boxes for ten more, and he won’t look at one +under a hundred pounds. Rawlings has got a fine place, he has +that.”</p> +<p>“I am surprised he should have left the kennels, though. +He loses his chance of ever becoming huntsman.”</p> +<p>“He is as good as that now, sir. He had a present of fifty +pounds to start with, gets as many shillings a week and all found, +and has the entire management of the stables, and with a gentleman +like Mr. Fortescue there’ll be some nice pickings.”</p> +<p>“Very likely. But why does Mr. Fortescue want a pilot? He +rides well, and his horses seem to know their business.”</p> +<p>“He won’t have any as doesn’t. Yes, he rides +uncommon well for an aged man, does Mr. Fortescue. I suppose he +wants somebody to show him the way and keep him from getting ridden +over. It isn’t nice to get ridden over when you’re +getting into years.”</p> +<p>“It isn’t nice whether you are getting into years or +not. But you cannot call Mr. Fortescue an old man.”</p> +<p>“You cannot call him a young ’un. He has a good many +gray hairs, and them puckers under his eyes hasn’t come in a +day. But he has a young heart, I will say that for him. Did you see +how he did that ‘double’ as pounded half the +field?”</p> +<p>“Yes, it was a very sporting jump. But who is Mr. +Fortescue, and where does he come from?”</p> +<p>“That is what nobody seems to know. Mr. Keyworth—he +was at the kennels only yesterday—asked me the very same +question. He thought Jim Rawlings might ha’ told me +something. But bless you, Jim knows no more than anybody else. All +as he can tell is as Mr. Fortescue sometimes goes to London, that +he is uncommon fond of hosses, and either rides or drives tandem +nearly every day, and has ordered a slap-up four-in-hand drag. And +he has got a ’boratory and no end o’ chemicals and +stuff, and electric machines, and all sorts o’ +gimcracks.”</p> +<p>“Is there a Mrs. Fortescue?”</p> +<p>“Not as I knows on. There is not a woman in the house, +except servants.”</p> +<p>“Who looks after things, then?”</p> +<p>“Well, there’s a housekeeper. But the head +bottle-washer is a chap they call major-domo—a German he is. +He looks after everything, and an uncommon sharp domo he is, too, +Jim says. Nobody can do him a penny piece. And then there is Mr. +Fortescue’s body-servant; he’s a dark man, with a big +scar on one cheek, and rings in his ears. They call him +Rumun.”</p> +<p>“Nonsense! There’s no such name as Rumun.”</p> +<p>“That’s what I told Jim. He said it was a rum +’un, but his name was Rumun, and no mistake.”</p> +<p>“Dark, and rings in his ears! The man is probably a +Spaniard. You mean Ramon.”</p> +<p>“No, I don’t; I mean Rumun,” returned Tawney, +doggedly. “I thought it was an uncommon rum name, and I asked +Jim twice—he calls at the kennels sometimes—I asked him +twice, and he said he was cock sure it was Rumun.”</p> +<p>“Rumun let it be then. Altogether, this Mr. Fortescue +seems to be rather a mysterious personage.”</p> +<p>“You are right there, Mr. Bacon, he is. I only wish I was +half as mysterious. Why, he must be worth thousands upon thousands. +And he spends his money like a gentleman, he does—thinks less +of a sovereign than you think of a bob. He sent Mr. Keyworth a +hundred pounds for his hunt subscription, and said if they were any +ways short at the end of the season they had only to tell him and +he would send as much more.”</p> +<p>Having now got all the information out of Tawney he was able to +give me, I stood him another whiskey, and after lighting a cigar I +mounted my horse and jogged slowly homeward, thinking much about +Mr. Fortescue, and wondering who he could be. The study of +physiognomy is one of my fads, and his face had deeply impressed +me; in great wealth, moreover, there is always something that +strikes the imagination, and this man was evidently very rich, and +the mystery that surrounded him piqued my curiosity.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_II" id="Ch_II">Chapter II.</a></h3> +<h2>Tickle-Me-Quick.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Being naturally of a retiring disposition, and in no sense the +hero of the tale which I am about to tell, I shall say no more +concerning myself than is absolutely necessary. At the same time, +it is essential to a right comprehension of what follows that I say +something about myself, and better that I should say it now than +interrupt the even flow of my narrative later on.</p> +<p>My name is Geoffrey Bacon, and I have reason to believe that I +was born at a place in Essex called (appropriately enough) Dedham. +My family is one of the oldest in the county, and (of course) +highly respectable; but as the question is often put to me by +friends, and will naturally suggest itself to my readers, I may as +well observe, once for all, that I am <em>not</em> a descendent of +the Lord Keeper Bacon, albeit, if he had had any children, I have +no doubt I should have been.</p> +<p>My poor mother died in giving me birth; my father followed her +when I was ten years old, leaving me with his blessing (nothing +else), to the care of his aunt, Miss Ophelia Bacon, by whom I was +brought up and educated. She was very good to me, but though I was +far from being intentionally ungrateful, I fear that I did not +repay her goodness as it deserved. The dear old lady had made up +her mind that I should be a doctor, and though I would rather have +been a farmer or a country gentleman (the latter for choice), I +made no objection; and so long as I remained at school she had no +reason to complain of my conduct. I satisfied my masters and passed +my preliminary examination creditably and without difficulty, to my +aunt’s great delight. She protested that she was proud of me, +and rewarded my diligence and cleverness with a five-pound note. +But after I became a student at Guy’s I gave her much +trouble, and got myself into some sad scrapes. I spent her present, +and something more, in hiring mounts, for I was passionately fond +of riding, especially to hounds, and ran into debt with a +neighboring livery-stable keeper to the tune of twenty pounds. I +would sometimes borrow the greengrocer’s pony, for I was not +particular what I rode, so long as it had four legs. When I could +obtain a mount neither for love nor on credit, I went after the +harriers on foot. The result, as touching my health and growth, was +all that could be desired. As touching my studies, however, it was +less satisfactory. I was spun twice, both in my anatomy and +physiology. Miss Ophelia, though sorely grieved, was very +indulgent, and had she lived, I am afraid that I should never have +got my diploma. But when I was twenty-one and she seventy-five, my +dear aunt died, leaving me all her property (which made an income +of about four hundred a year), with the proviso that unless, within +three years of her death, I obtained the double qualification, the +whole of her estate was to pass to Guy’s Hospital. In the +mean time the trustees were empowered to make me an allowance of +two guineas a week and defray all my hospital expenses.</p> +<p>On this, partly because I was loath to lose so goodly a +heritage, partly, I hope, from worthier motives, I buckled-to in +real earnest, and before I was four-and-twenty I could write after +my name the much coveted capitals M.R.C.S., L.R.C.P. All this while +I had not once crossed a horse or looked at a hound, yet the ruling +passion was still strong, and being very much of Mr. +Jorrock’s opinion that all time not spent in hunting is lost, +I resolved, before “settling down” or taking up any +position which might be incompatible with indulgence in my favorite +amusement, to devote a few years of my life to fox-hunting. At +twenty-four a man does not give much thought to the future—at +any rate I did not.</p> +<p>The next question was how to hunt three or four days a week on +four hundred a year, for though I was quite willing to spend my +income, I was resolved not to touch my capital. To begin with, I +sold my aunt’s cottage and furniture and took a couple of +rooms for the winter at Red Chimneys, a roomy farm-house in the +neighborhood of Treydon. Then, acting on the great principle of +co-operation, I joined at horse-keeping with my good friend and old +school-fellow, Bertie Alston, a London solicitor. Being both of us +light-weights, we could mount ourselves cheaply; the average cost +of our stud of four horses did not exceed forty pounds apiece. +Moreover, when opportunities offered, we did not disdain to turn an +honest penny by buying an animal cheap and selling him dear, and as +I looked after things myself, bought my own forage, and saw that I +had full measure, our stable expenses were kept within moderate +limits. Except when the weather was bad, or a horse <em>hors de +combat</em>, I generally contrived to get four days’ hunting +a week—three with the fox-hounds and one with Mr. +Vigne’s harriers—for, owing to his professional +engagements, Alston could not go out as often as I did. But as I +took all the trouble and responsibility, it was only fair that I +should have the lion’s share of the riding.</p> +<p>At the end of the season we either sold the horses off or turned +them into a straw-yard, and I went to sea as ship’s surgeon. +In this capacity I made voyages to Australia, to the Cape, and to +the West Indies; and the summer before I first saw Mr. Fortescue I +had been to the Arctic Ocean in a whaler. True, the pay did not +amount to much, but it found me in pocket-money and clothes, and I +saved my keep.</p> +<p>Having now, as I hope, done with digressions and placed myself +<em>en rapport</em> with my readers, I will return to the principal +personage of my story.</p> +<p>The next time I met Mr. Fortescue was at Harlow Bush. He was +quite as well mounted as before, and accompanied, as usual, by +Rawlings and two grooms with their second horses. On this occasion +Mr. Fortescue did not hold himself nearly so much aloof as he had +done at Matching Green, perhaps because he was more noticed; and he +was doubtless more noticed because the fame of his wealth and the +lavish use he made of it were becoming more widely known. The +master gave him a friendly nod and a gracious smile, and expressed +a hope that we should have good sport; the secretary engaged him in +a lively conversation; the hunt servants touched their caps to him +with profound respect, and he received greetings from most of the +swells.</p> +<p>We drew Latton, found in a few minutes, and had a “real +good thing,” a grand run of nearly two hours, with only one +or two trifling checks, which, as I am not writing a hunting story, +I need not describe any further than to remark that we had plenty +of fencing, a good deal of hard galloping, a kill in the open, and +that of the sixty or seventy who were present at the start only +about a score were up at the finish. Among the fortunate few were +Mr. Fortescue and his pilot. During the latter part of the run we +rode side by side, and pulled up at the same instant, just as the +fox was rolled over.</p> +<p>“A very fine run,” I took the liberty to observe, as +I stepped from my saddle and slackened my horse’s girths. +“It will be a long time before we have a better.”</p> +<p>“Two hours and two minutes,” shouted the secretary, +looking at his watch, “and straight. We are in the heart of +the Puckeridge country.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Mr. Fortescue, quietly, “it was a +very enjoyable run. You like hunting, I think?”</p> +<p>“Like it! I should rather think I do. I regard fox-hunting +as the very prince of sports. It is manly, health-giving, and +exhilarating. There is no sport in which so many participate and so +heartily enjoy. We enjoy it, the horses enjoy it, and the hounds +enjoy it.”</p> +<p>“How about the fox?”</p> +<p>“Oh, the fox! Well, the fox is allowed to exist on +condition of being occasionally hunted. If there were no hunting +there would be no foxes. On the whole, I regard him as a fortunate +and rather pampered individual; and I have even heard it said that +he rather likes being hunted than otherwise.”</p> +<p>“As for the general question, I dare say you are right. +But I don’t think the fox likes it much. It once happened to +me to be hunted, and I know I did not like it.”</p> +<p>This was rather startling, and had Mr. Fortescue spoken less +gravely and not been so obviously in earnest, I should have thought +he was joking.</p> +<p>“You don’t mean—Was it a paper-chase?” I +said, rather foolishly.</p> +<p>“No; it was not a paper-chase,” he answered, grimly. +“There were no paper-chases in my time. I mean that I was +once hunted, just as we have been hunting that fox.”</p> +<p>“With a pack of hounds?”</p> +<p>“Yes, with a pack of hounds.”</p> +<p>I was about to ask what sort of a chase it was, and how and +where he was hunted, when Cuffe came up, and, on behalf of the +master, offered Mr. Fortescue the brush.</p> +<p>“Thank you,” said Mr. Fortescue, taking the brush +and handing it to Rawlings. “Here is something for +you”—tipping the huntsman a sovereign, which he put in +his pocket with a “Thank you kindly, sir,” and a +gratified smile.</p> +<p>And then flasks were uncorked, sandwich-cases opened, cigars +lighted, and the conversation becoming general, I had no other +opportunity—at that time—of making further inquiry of +Mr. Fortescue touching the singular episode in his career which he +had just mentioned. A few minutes later a move was made for our own +country, and as we were jogging along I found myself near Jim +Rawlings.</p> +<p>“That’s a fresh hoss you’ve got, I think, +sir,” he said.</p> +<p>“Yes, I have ridden him two or three times with the +harriers; but this is the first time I have had him out with +fox-hounds.”</p> +<p>“He carried you very well in the run, sir.”</p> +<p>“You are quite right; he did. Very well.”</p> +<p>“Does he lay hold on you at all, Mr. Bacon?”</p> +<p>“Not a bit.”</p> +<p>“Light in the mouth, a clever jumper, and a free +goer.”</p> +<p>“All three.”</p> +<p>“Yes, he’s the right sort, he is, sir; and if ever +you feel disposed to sell him, I could, may be, find you a +customer.”</p> +<p>Accepting this as a delicate intimation that Mr. Fortescue had +taken a fancy to the horse and would like to buy him, I told Jim +that I was quite willing to sell at a fair price.</p> +<p>“And what might you consider a fair price, if it is a fair +question?” asked the man.</p> +<p>“A hundred guineas,” I answered; for, as I knew that +Mr. Fortescue would not “look at a horse,” as Tawney +put it, under that figure, it would have been useless to ask +less.</p> +<p>“Very well, sir. I will speak to my master, and let you +know.”</p> +<p>Ranger, as I called the horse, was a purchase of Alston’s. +Liking his looks (though Bertie was really a very indifferent +judge), he had bought him out of a hansom-cab for forty pounds, and +after a little “schooling,” the creature took to +jumping as naturally as a duck takes to water. Sixty pounds may +seem rather an unconscionable profit, but considering that Ranger +was quite sound and up to weight, I don’t think a hundred +guineas was too much. A dealer would have asked a hundred and +fifty.</p> +<p>At any rate, Mr. Fortescue did not think it too much, for +Rawlings presently brought me word that his master would take the +horse at the price I had named, if I could warrant him sound.</p> +<p>“In that case it is a bargain,” I said, “for I +can warrant him sound.”</p> +<p>“All right, sir. I’ll send one of the grooms over to +your place for him to-morrow.”</p> +<p>Shortly afterward I fell in with Keyworth, and as a matter of +course we talked about Mr. Fortescue.</p> +<p>“Do you know anything about him?” I asked.</p> +<p>“Not much. I believe he is rich—and +respectable.”</p> +<p>“That is pretty evident, I think.”</p> +<p>“I am not sure. A man who spends a good deal of money is +presumably rich; but it by no means follows that he is respectable. +There are such people in the world as successful rogues and wealthy +swindlers. Not that I think Mr. Fortescue is either one or the +other. I learned, from the check he sent me for his subscription, +who his bankers are, and through a friend of mine, who is intimate +with one of the directors, I got a confidential report about him. +It does not amount to much; but it is satisfactory so far as it +goes. They say he is a man of large fortune, and, as they believe, +highly respectable.”</p> +<p>“Is that all?”</p> +<p>“All there was in the report. But +Tomlinson—that’s my friend—has heard that he has +spent the greater part of his life abroad, and that he made his +money in South America.”</p> +<p>The mention of South America interested me, for I had made +voyages both to Rio de Janeiro and several places on the Spanish +Main.</p> +<p>“South America is rather vague,” I observed. +“You might almost as well say ‘Southern Asia.’ +Have you any idea in what part of it?”</p> +<p>“Not the least. I have told you all I know. I should be +glad to know more; but for the present it is quite enough for my +purpose. I intend to call upon Mr. Fortescue.”</p> +<p>It is hardly necessary to say that I had no such intention, for +having neither a “position in the county,” as the +phrase goes, a house of my own, nor any official connection with +the hunt, a call from me would probably have been regarded, and +rightly so, as a piece of presumption. As it happened, however, I +not only called on Mr. Fortescue before the secretary, but became +his guest, greatly to my surprise, and, I have no doubt, to his, +although he was the indirect cause; for had he not bought Ranger, +it is very unlikely that I should have become an inmate of his +house.</p> +<p>It came about in this way. Bertie was so pleased with the result +of his first speculation in horseflesh (though so far as he was +concerned it was a pure fluke) that he must needs make another. If +he had picked up a second cab-horse at thirty or forty pounds he +could not have gone far wrong; but instead of that he must needs go +to Tattersall’s and give nearly fifty for a blood mare +rejoicing in the name of “Tickle-me-Quick,” described +as being “the property of a gentleman,” and said to +have won several country steeple-chases.</p> +<p>The moment I set eyes on the beast I saw she was a screw, +“and vicious at that,” as an American would have said. +But as she had been bought (without warranty) and paid for, I had +to make the best of her. Within an hour of the mare’s arrival +at Red Chimneys, I was on her back, trying her paces. She galloped +well and jumped splendidly, but I feared from her ways that she +would be hot with hounds, and perhaps, kick in a crowd, one of the +worst faults that a hunter can possess.</p> +<p>On the next non-hunting day I took Tickle-me-Quick out for a +long ride in the country, to see how she shaped as a hack. I little +thought, as we set off, that it would prove to be her last journey, +and one of the most memorable events of my life.</p> +<p>For a while all went well. The mare wanted riding, yet she +behaved no worse than I expected, although from the way she laid +her ears back and the angry tossing of her head when I made her +feel the bit, she was clearly not in the best of tempers. But I +kept her going; and an hour after leaving Red Chimneys we turned +into a narrow deep lane between high banks, which led to Kingscote +entering the road on the west side of the park at right angles, and +very near Mr. Fortescue’s lodge-gates.</p> +<p>In the field to my right several colts were grazing, and when +they caught sight of Tickle-me-Quick trotting up the lane they took +it into their heads to have an impromptu race among themselves. +Neighing loudly, they set off at full gallop. Without asking my +leave, Tickle-me-Quick followed suit. I tried to stop her. I might +as well have tried to stop an avalanche. So, making a virtue of +necessity, I let her go, thinking that before she reached the top +of the lane she would have had quite enough, and I should be able +to pull her up without difficulty.</p> +<p>The colts are soon left behind; but we can hear them galloping +behind us, and on goes the mare like the wind. I can now see the +end of the lane, and as the great park wall, twelve feet high, +looms in sight, the horrible thought flashes on my mind that unless +I pull her up we shall both be dashed to pieces; for to turn a +sharp corner at the speed we are going is quite out of the +question.</p> +<p>I make another effort, sawing the mare’s mouth till it +bleeds, and tightening the reins till they are fit to break.</p> +<p>All in vain; she puts her head down and gallops on, if possible +more madly than before. Still larger looms that terrible wall; +death stares me in the face, and for the first time in my life I +undergo the intense agony of mortal terror.</p> +<p>We are now at the end of the lane. There is one chance only, and +that the most desperate, of saving my life. I slip my feet from the +stirrups, and when Tickle-me-Quick is within two or three strides +of the wall, I drop the reins and throw myself from her back. Then +all is darkness.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_III" id="Ch_III">Chapter III.</a></h3> +<h2>Mr. Fortescue’s Proposal.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>“Where am I?”</p> +<p>I feel as if I were in a strait-jacket. One of my arms is +immovable, my head is bandaged, and when I try to turn I suffer +excruciating pain.</p> +<p>“Where am I?”</p> +<p>“Oh, you have wakened up!” says somebody with a +foreign accent, and a dark face bends over me. The light is dim and +my sight weak, and but for his grizzled mustache I might have taken +the speaker for a woman, his ears being adorned with large gold +rings.</p> +<p>“Where are you? You are in the house of Señor +Fortescue.”</p> +<p>“And the mare?”</p> +<p>“The mare broke her wicked head against the park wall, and +she has gone to the kennels to be eaten by the dogs.”</p> +<p>“Already? How long is it since?”</p> +<p>“It was the day before yesterday zat it +happened.”</p> +<p>“God bless me! I must have been insensible ever since. +That means concussion of the brain. Am I much damaged otherwise, do +you know?”</p> +<p>“Pretty well. Your left shoulder is dislocated, one of +your fingers and two of your ribs broken, and one of your ankles +severely contused. But it might have been worse. If you had not +thrown yourself from your horse, as you did, you would just now be +in a coffin instead of in this comfortable bed.”</p> +<p>“Somebody saw me, then?”</p> +<p>“Yes, the lodge-keeper. He thought you were dead, and came +up and told us; and we brought you here on a stretcher, and the +Señor Coronel sent for a doctor—”</p> +<p>“The Señor Coronel! Do you mean Mr. +Fortescue?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir, I mean Mr. Fortescue.”</p> +<p>“Then you are Ramon?”</p> +<p>“<em>Hijo de Dios!</em> You know my name.”</p> +<p>“Yes, you are Mr. Fortescue’s +body-servant.”</p> +<p>“Caramba! Somebody must have told you.”</p> +<p>“You might have made a worse guess, Señor Ramon. +Will you please tell Mr. Fortescue that I thank him with all my +heart for his great kindness, and that I will not trespass on it +more than I can possibly help. As soon as I can be moved I shall go +to my own place.”</p> +<p>“That will not be for a long time, and I do not think the +Señor Coronel would like—But when he returns he will +see you, and then you can tell him yourself.”</p> +<p>“He is away from home, then?”</p> +<p>“The Señor Coronel has gone to London. He will be +back to-morrow.”</p> +<p>“Well, if I cannot thank him to-day, I can thank you. You +are my nurse, are you not?”</p> +<p>“A little—Geist and I, and Mees Tomleenson, we +relieve each other. But those two don’t know much about +wounds.”</p> +<p>“And you do, I suppose?”</p> +<p>“<em>Hijo de Dios!</em> Do I know much about wounds? I +have nursed men who have been cut to pieces. I have been cut to +pieces myself. Look!”</p> +<p>And with that Ramon pointed to his neck, which was seamed all +the way down with a tremendous scar; then to his left hand, which +was minus two fingers; next to one of his arms, which appeared to +have been plowed from wrist to elbow with a bullet; and lastly to +his head, which was almost covered with cicatrices, great and +small.</p> +<p>“And I have many more marks in other parts of my body, +which it would not be convenient to show you just now,” he +said, quietly.</p> +<p>“You are an old soldier, then, Ramon?”</p> +<p>“Very. And now I will light myself a cigarette, and you +will no more talk. As an old soldier, I know that it is bad for a +<em>caballero</em> with a broken head to talk so much as you are +doing.”</p> +<p>“As a surgeon, I know you are right, and I will talk no +more for the present.”</p> +<p>And then, feeling rather drowsy, I composed myself to sleep. The +last thing I remembered before closing my eyes was the long, +swarthy, quixotic-looking face of my singular nurse, veiled in a +blue cloud of cigarette-smoke, which, as it rolled from the +nostrils of his big, aquiline nose, made those orifices look like +the twin craters of an active volcano, upside down.</p> +<p>When, after a short snooze, I woke a second time, my first +sensation was one of intense surprise, and being unable, without +considerable inconvenience, to rub my eyes, I winked several times +in succession to make sure that I was not dreaming; for while I +slept the swart visage, black eyes, and grizzled mustache of my +nurse had, to all appearance, been turned into a fair countenance, +with blue eyes and a tawny head, while the tiny cigarette had +become a big meerschaum pipe.</p> +<p>“God bless me! You are surely not Ramon?” I +exclaimed.</p> +<p>“No; I am Geist. It is my turn of duty as your nurse. Can +I get you anything?”</p> +<p>“Thank you very much; you are all very kind. I feel rather +faint, and perhaps if I had something to eat it might do me +good.”</p> +<p>“Certainly. There is some beef-tea ready. Here it is. +Shall I feed you?”</p> +<p>“Thank you. My left arm is tied up, and this broken finger +is very painful. Bat I am giving you no end of trouble. I +don’t know how I shall be able to repay you and Mr. Fortescue +for all your kindness.”</p> +<p>“<em>Ach Gott!</em> Don’t mention it, my dear sir. +Mr. Fortescue said you were to have every attention; and when a +fellow-man has been broken all to pieces it is our duty to do for +him what we can. Who knows? Perhaps some time I may be broken all +to pieces myself. But I will not ride your fiery horses. My weight +is seventeen stone, and if I was to throw myself off a galloping +horse as you did, <em>ach Gott!</em> I should be broken past +mending.”</p> +<p>Mr. Geist made an attentive and genial nurse, discoursing so +pleasantly and fluently that, greatly to my satisfaction (for I was +very weak), my part in the conversation was limited to an +occasional monosyllable; but he said nothing on the subject as to +which I was most anxious for information—Mr. +Fortescue—and, as he clearly desired to avoid it, I refrained +from asking questions that might have put him in a difficulty and +exposed me to a rebuff.</p> +<p>I found out afterward that neither he nor Ramon ever discussed +their master, and though Mrs. Tomlinson, my third nurse (a buxom, +healthy, middle-aged widow, whose position seemed to be something +between that of housekeeper and upper servant), was less reticent, +it was probably because she had so little to tell.</p> +<p>I learned, among other things, that the habits of the household +were almost as regular as those of a regiment, and that the +servants, albeit kindly treated and well paid, were strictly ruled, +even comparatively slight breaches of discipline being punished +with instant dismissal. At half-past ten everybody was supposed to +be in bed, and up at six; for at seven Mr. Fortescue took his first +breakfast of fruit and dry toast. According to Mrs. Tomlinson (and +this I confess rather surprised me) he was an essentially busy man. +His only idle time was that which he gave to sleep. During his +waking hours he was always either working in his study, his +laboratory, or his conservatories, riding and driving being his +sole recreations.</p> +<p>“He is the most active man I ever knew, young or +old,” said Mrs. Tomlinson, “and a good master—I +will say that for him. But I cannot make him out at all. He seems +to have neither kith nor kin, and yet—This is quite between +ourselves, Mr. Bacon—”</p> +<p>“Of course, Mrs. Tomlinson, quite.”</p> +<p>“Well, there is a picture in his room as he keeps veiled +and locked up in a sort of shrine; but one day he forgot to turn +the key, and I—I looked.”</p> +<p>“Naturally. And what did you see?”</p> +<p>“The picture of a woman, dark, but, oh, so +beautiful—as beautiful as an angel…. I thought it was, +may be, a sweetheart or something, but she is too young for the +likes of him.”</p> +<p>“Portraits are always the same; that picture may have been +painted ages ago. Always veiled is it? That seems very mysterious, +does it not?”</p> +<p>“It does; and I am just dying to know what the mystery is. +If you should happen to find out, and it’s no secret, would +you mind telling me?”</p> +<p>At this point Herr Geist appeared, whereupon Mrs. Tomlinson, +with true feminine tact, changed the subject without waiting for a +reply.</p> +<p>During the time I was laid up Mr. Fortescue came into my room +almost every day, but never stayed more than a few minutes. When I +expressed my sense of his kindness and talked about going home, he +would smile gravely, and say:</p> +<p>“Patience! You must be my guest until you have the full +use of your limbs and are able to go about without help.”</p> +<p>After this I protested no more, for there was an indescribable +something about Mr. Fortescue which would have made it difficult to +contradict him, even had I been disposed to take so ungrateful and +ungracious a part.</p> +<p>At length, after a weary interval of inaction and pain, came a +time when I could get up and move about without discomfort, and one +fine frosty day, which seemed the brightest of my life, Geist and +Ramon helped me down-stairs and led me into a pretty little +morning-room, opening into one of the conservatories, where the +plants and flowers had been so arranged as to look like a sort of +tropical forest, in the midst of which was an aviary filled with +parrots, cockatoos, and other birds of brilliant plumage.</p> +<p>Geist brought me an easy-chair, Ramon a box of cigarettes and +the “Times,” and I was just settling down to a +comfortable read and smoke, when Mr. Fortescue entered from the +conservatory. He wore a Norfolk jacket and a broad-brimmed hat, and +his step was so elastic, and his bearing so upright, and he seemed +so strong and vigorous withal, that I began to think that in +estimating his age at sixty I had made a mistake. He looked more +like fifty or fifty-five.</p> +<p>“I am glad to see you down-stairs,” he said, helping +himself to a cigarette. “How do you feel?”</p> +<p>“Very much better, thank you, and to-morrow or the next +day I must really—”</p> +<p>“No, no, I cannot let you go yet. I shall keep you, at any +rate, a few days longer. And while this frost lasts you can do no +hunting. How is the shoulder?”</p> +<p>“Better. In a fortnight or so I shall be able to dispense +with the sling, but my ankle is the worst. The contusion was very +severe. I fear that I shall feel the effects of it for a long +time.”</p> +<p>“That is very likely, I think. I would any time rather +have a clean flesh wound than a severe contusion. I have had +experience of both. At Salamanca my shoulder was laid open with a +sabre-stroke at the very moment my horse was shot under me; and my +leg, which was terribly bruised in the fall, was much longer in +getting better than my shoulder.”</p> +<p>“At Salamanca! You surely don’t mean the battle of +Salamanca?”</p> +<p>“Yes, the battle of Salamanca.”</p> +<p>“But, God bless me, that is ages ago! At the beginning of +the century—1810 or 1812, or something like that.”</p> +<p>“The battle of Salamanca was fought on the 21st of July, +1812,” said my host, with a matter-of-fact air.</p> +<p>“But—why—how?” I stammered, staring at +him in supreme surprise. “That is sixty years since, and you +don’t look much more than fifty now.”</p> +<p>“All the same I am nearly fourscore,” said Mr. +Fortescue, smiling as if the compliment pleased him.</p> +<p>“Fourscore, and so hale and strong! I have known men half +your age not half so vigorous and alert. Why, you may live to be a +hundred.”</p> +<p>“I think I shall, probably longer. Of course barring +accidents, and if I continue to avoid a peril which has been +hanging over me for half a century or so, and from which I have +several times escaped only by the skin of my teeth.”</p> +<p>“And what is the peril, Mr. Fortescue?”</p> +<p>“Assassination.”</p> +<p>“Assassination!”</p> +<p>“Yes, assassination. I told you a short time ago that I +was once hunted by a pack of hounds. I am hunted now—have +been hunted for two generations—by a family of +murderers.”</p> +<p>The thought occurred to me—and not for the first +time—that Mr. Fortescue was either mad or a Munchausen, and I +looked at him curiously; but neither in that calm, powerful, +self-possessed face, nor in the steady gaze of those keen dark +eyes, could I detect the least sign of incipient insanity or a +boastful spirit.</p> +<p>“You are quite mistaken,” he said, with one of his +enigmatic smiles. “I am not mad; and I have lived too long +either to cherish illusions or conjure up imaginary +dangers.”</p> +<p>“I—I beg your pardon, Mr. Fortescue—I had no +intention,” I stammered, quite taken aback by the accuracy +with which he had read, or guessed, my thoughts—“I had +no intention to cast a doubt on what you said. But who are these +people that seek your life? and why don’t you inform the +police?”</p> +<p>“The police! How could the police help me?” +exclaimed Mr. Fortescue, with a gesture of disdain, “Besides, +life would not be worth having at the price of being always under +police protection, like an evicting Irish landlord. But let us +change the subject; we have talked quite enough about myself. I +want to talk about you.”</p> +<p>A very few minutes sufficed to put Mr. Fortescue in possession +of all the information he desired. He already knew something about +me, and as I had nothing to conceal, I answered all his questions +without reserve.</p> +<p>“Don’t you think you are rather wasting your +life?” he asked, after I had answered the last of them.</p> +<p>“I am enjoying it.”</p> +<p>“Very likely. People generally do enjoy life when they are +young. Hunting is all very well as an amusement, but to have no +other object in life seems—what shall we say?—just a +little frivolous, don’t you think?”</p> +<p>“Well, perhaps it does; but I mean, after a while, to buy +a practice and settle down.”</p> +<p>“But in the mean time your medical knowledge must be +growing rather rusty. I have heard physicians say that it is only +after they have obtained their degree that they begin to learn +their profession. And the practice you get on board these ships +cannot amount to much.”</p> +<p>“You are quite right,” I said, frankly, for my +conscience was touched. “I am, as you say, living too much +for the present. I know less than I knew when I left Guy’s. I +could not pass my ‘final’ over again to save my life. +You are quite right: I must turn over a new leaf.”</p> +<p>“I am glad to hear you say so, the more especially as I +have a proposal to make; and as I make it quite as much in my own +interest as in yours, you will incur no obligation in accepting it. +I want you to become an inmate of my house, help me in my +laboratory, and act as my secretary and domestic physician, and +when I am away from home, as my representative. You will have free +quarters, of course; my stable will be at your disposal for hunting +purposes, and you may go sometimes to London to attend lectures and +do practical work at your hospital. As for salary—you can fix +it yourself, when you have ascertained by actual experience the +character of your work. What do you say?”</p> +<p>Mr. Fortescue put this question as if he had no doubt about my +answer, and I fulfilled his expectation by answering promptly in +the affirmative. The proposal seemed in every way to my advantage, +and was altogether to my liking; and even had it been less so I +should have accepted it, for what I had just heard greatly whetted +my curiosity, and made me more desirous than ever to know the +history of the extraordinary man with whom I had so strangely come +in contact, and ascertain the secret of his wealth.</p> +<p>The same day I wrote to Alston announcing the dissolution of our +partnership, and leaving him to deal with the horses at Red +Chimneys as he might think fit.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_IV" id="Ch_IV">Chapter IV.</a></h3> +<h2>A Rescue.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>My curiosity was rather long in being gratified, and but for a +very strange occurrence, which I shall presently describe, probably +never would have been gratified. Even after I had been a member of +Mr. Fortescue’s household for several months, I knew little +more of his antecedents and circumstances than on the day when he +made me the proposal which I have just mentioned. If I attempted to +lead up to the subject, he would either cleverly evade it or say +bluntly that he preferred to talk about something else. Save as to +matters that did not particularly interest me, Ramon was as +reticent as his master; and as Geist had only been with Mr. +Fortescue during the latter’s residence at Kingscote, his +knowledge, or, rather, his ignorance was on a par with my own.</p> +<p>Mr. Fortescue’s character was as enigmatic as his history +was obscure. He seemed to be destitute both of kinsfolk and +friends, never made any allusion to his family, neither noticed +women nor discussed them. Politics and religion he equally ignored, +and, so far as might appear, had neither foibles nor fads. On the +other hand, he had three passions—science, horses, and +horticulture, and his knowledge was almost encyclopædic. He +was a great reader, master of many languages, and seemed to have +been everywhere and seen all in the world that was worth seeing. +His wealth appeared to be unlimited, but how he made it or where he +kept it I had no idea. All I knew was that whenever money was +wanted it was forthcoming, and that he signed a check for ten +pounds and ten thousand with equal indifference. As he conducted +his private correspondence himself, my position as secretary gave +me no insight into his affairs. My duties consisted chiefly in +corresponding with tradesmen, horse-dealers, and nursery gardeners, +and noting the results of chemical experiments.</p> +<p>Mr. Fortescue was very abstemious, and took great care of his +health, and if he was really verging on eighty (which I very much +doubted), I thought he might not improbably live to be a hundred +and ten and even a hundred and twenty. He drank nothing, whatever, +neither tea, coffee, cocoa, nor any other beverage, neither water +nor wine, always quenching his thirst with fruit, of which he ate +largely. So far as I knew, the only liquid that ever passed his +lips was an occasional liquor-glass of a mysterious decoction which +he prepared himself and kept always under lock and key. His +breakfast, which he took every morning at seven, consisted of bread +and fruit.</p> +<p>He ate very little animal food, limiting himself for the most +part to fish and fowl, and invariably spent eight or nine hours of +the twenty-four in bed. We often discussed physiology, +therapeutics, and kindred subjects, of which his knowledge was so +extensive as to make me suspect that some time in his life he had +belonged to the medical profession.</p> +<p>“The best physicians I ever met,” he once observed, +“are the Callavayas of the Andes—if the preservation +and prolongation of human life is the test of medical skill. Among +the Callavayas the period of youth is thirty years; a man is not +held to be a man until he reaches fifty, and he only begins to be +old at a hundred.”</p> +<p>“Was it among the Callavayas that you learned the secret +of long life, Mr. Fortescue?” I asked.</p> +<p>“Perhaps,” he answered, with one of his peculiar +smiles; and then he started me by saying that he would never be a +“lean and slippered pantaloon.” When health and +strength failed him he should cease to live.</p> +<p>“You surely don’t mean that you will commit +suicide?” I exclaimed, in dismay.</p> +<p>“You may call it what you like. I shall do as the Fiji +Islanders and some tribes of Indians do, in similar +circumstances—retire to a corner and still the beatings of my +heart by an effort of will.”</p> +<p>“But is that possible?”</p> +<p>“I have seen it done, and I have done it myself—not, +of course, to the point of death, but so far as to simulate death. +I once saved my life in that way.”</p> +<p>“Was that when you were hunted, Mr. Fortescue?”</p> +<p>“No, it was not. Let us go to the stables. I want to see +you ride Regina over the jumps.”</p> +<p>Mr. Fortescue had caused to be arranged in the park a miniature +steeple-chase course about a mile round, on which newly-acquired +hunters were always tried, and the old ones regularly exercised. He +generally made a point of being present on these occasions, +sometimes riding over the course himself. If a horse, bought as a +hunter, failed to justify its character by its performance it was +invariably returned.</p> +<p>Sometimes Ramon gave us an exhibition of his skill as a gaucho. +One of the wildest of the horses would be let loose in the park, +and the old soldier, armed with a lasso and mounted on an animal +trained by himself, and equipped with a South American saddle, +would follow and try to “rope” the runaway, Mr. +Fortescue, Rawlings, and myself riding after him. It was +“good fun,” but I fancy Mr. Fortescue regarded this +sport, as he regarded hunting, less as an amusement than as a means +of keeping him in good health and condition.</p> +<p>Regina (a recent purchase) was tried and, I think, found +wanting. I recall the instance merely because it is associated in +my mind with an event which, besides affecting a momentous change +in my relations with Mr. Fortescue and greatly influencing my own +fortune, rendered possible the writing of this book.</p> +<p>The trial over, Mr. Fortescue told me, somewhat abruptly, that +he intended to leave home in an hour, and should be away for +several days. As he walked toward the house, I inquired if there +was anything he would like me to look after during his absence, +whereupon he mentioned several chemical and electrical experiments, +which he wished me to continue and note the results. He requested +me, further, to open all letters—save such as were marked +private or bore foreign postmarks—and answer so many of them +as, without his instructions, I might be able to do. For the rest, +I was to exercise a general supervision, especially over the +stables and gardens. As for purely domestic concerns, Geist was so +excellent a manager that his master trusted him without +reserve.</p> +<p>When Mr. Fortescue came down-stairs, equipped for his journey, I +inquired when he expected to return, and on what day he would like +the carriage to meet him at the station. I thought he might tell me +where he was going; but he did not take the hint.</p> +<p>“If it rains I will telegraph,” he said; “if +fine, I shall probably walk; it is only a couple of +miles.”</p> +<p>Mr. Fortescue, as he always did when he went outside his park +(unless he was mounted), took with him a sword-stick, a habit which +I thought rather ridiculous, for, though he was an essentially sane +man, I had quite made up my mind that his fear of assassination was +either a fancy or a fad.</p> +<p>After my patron’s departure I worked for a while in the +laboratory; and an hour before dinner I went for a stroll in the +park, making, for no reason in particular, toward the principal +entrance. As I neared it I heard voices in dispute, and on reaching +the gates I found the lodge-keeper engaged in a somewhat warm +altercation with an Italian organ-grinder and another fellow of the +same kidney, who seemed to be his companion.</p> +<p>The lodge-keepers had strict orders to exclude from the park all +beggars without exception, and all and sundry who produced music by +turning a handle. Real musicians, however, were freely admitted, +and often generously rewarded.</p> +<p>The lodge-keeper in question (an old fellow with a wooden leg) +had not been able to make the two vagabonds in question understand +this. They insisted on coming in, and the lodge-keeper said that if +I had not appeared he verily believed they would have entered in +spite of him. They seemed to know very little English; but as I +knew a little Italian, which I eked out with a few significant +gestures, I speedily enlightened them, and they sheered off, +looking daggers, and muttering what sounded like curses.</p> +<p>The man who carried the organ was of the usual type—short, +thick-set, hairy, and unwashed. His companion, rather to my +surprise, was just the reverse—tall, shapely, well set up, +and comparatively well clad; and with his dark eyes, black +mustache, broad-brimmed hat, and red tie loosely knotted round his +brawny throat, he looked decidedly picturesque.</p> +<p>On the following day, as I was going to the stables (which were +a few hundred yards below the house) I found my picturesque Italian +in the back garden, singing a barcarole to the accompaniment of a +guitar. But as he had complied with the condition of which I had +informed him, I made no objection. So far from that I gave him a +shilling, and as the maids (who were greatly taken with his +appearance) got up a collection for him and gave him a feed, he did +not do badly.</p> +<p>A few days later, while out riding, I called at the station for +an evening paper, and there he was again, “touching his +guitar,” and singing something that sounded very +sentimental.</p> +<p>“That fellow is like a bad shilling,” I said to one +of the porters—“always turning up.”</p> +<p>“He is never away. I think he must have taken it into his +head to live here.”</p> +<p>“What does he do?”</p> +<p>“Oh, he just hangs about, and watches the trains, as if he +had never seen any before. I suppose there are none in the country +he comes from. Between whiles he sometimes plays on his banjo and +sings a bit for us. I cannot quite make him out; but as he is very +quiet and well-behaved, and never interferes with nobody, it is no +business of mine.”</p> +<p>Neither was it any business of mine; so after buying my paper I +dismissed the subject from my mind and rode on to Kingscote.</p> +<p>As a rule, I found the morning papers quite as much as I could +struggle with; but at this time a poisoning case was being tried +which interested me so much that while it lasted I sent for or +fetched an evening paper every afternoon. The day after my +conversation with the porter I adopted the former course, the day +after that I adopted the latter, and, contrary to my usual +practice, I walked.</p> +<p>There were two ways from Kingscote to the station; one by the +road, the other by a little-used footpath. I went by the road, and +as I was buying my paper at Smith’s bookstall the +station-master told me that Mr. Fortescue had returned by a train +which came in about ten minutes previously.</p> +<p>“He must be walking home by the fields, then, or we should +have met,” I said; and pocketing my paper, I set off with the +intention of overtaking him.</p> +<p>As I have already observed, the field way was little frequented, +most people preferring the high-road as being equally direct and, +except in the height of summer, both dryer and less lonesome.</p> +<p>After traversing two or three fields the foot-path ran through a +thick wood, once part of the great forest of Essex, then descending +into a deep hollow, it made a sudden bend and crossed a rambling +old brook by a dilapidated bridge.</p> +<p>As I reached the bend I heard a shout, and looking down I saw +what at first sight (the day being on the wane and the wood gloomy) +I took to be three men amusing themselves with a little +cudgel-play. But a second glance showed me that something much more +like murder than cudgel-play was going on; and shortening my Irish +blackthorn, I rushed at breakneck speed down the hollow.</p> +<p>I was just in time. Mr. Fortescue, with his back against the +tree, was defending himself with his sword-stick against the two +Italians, each of whom, armed with a long dagger, was doing his +best to get at him without falling foul of the sword.</p> +<p>The rascals were so intent on their murderous business that they +neither heard nor saw me, and, taking them in the rear, I fetched +the guitar-player a crack on his skull that stretched him senseless +on the ground, whereupon the other villain, without more ado, took +to his heels.</p> +<p>“Thank you,” said Mr. Fortescue, quietly, as he put +up his weapon. “I don’t think I could have kept the +brigands at bay much longer. A sword-stick is no match for a pair +of Corsican daggers. The next time I take a walk I must have a +revolver. Is that fellow dead, do you think? If he is, I shall be +still more in your debt.”</p> +<p>I looked at the prostrate man’s face, then at his head. +“No,” I said, “there is no fracture. He is only +stunned.” My diagnosis was verified almost as soon as it was +spoken. The next moment the Italian opened his eyes and sat up, and +had I not threatened him with my blackthorn would have sprung to +his feet.</p> +<p>“You have to thank this gentleman for saving your +life,” said Mr. Fortescue, in French.</p> +<p>“How?” asked the fellow in the same language.</p> +<p>“If you had killed me you would have been hanged. If I +hand you over to the police you will get twenty years at the hulks +for attempted murder, and unless you answer my questions truly I +shall hand you over to the police. You are a Griscelli.”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>“Which of them?”</p> +<p>“I am Giuseppe, the son of Giuseppe.”</p> +<p>“In that case you are <em>his</em> grandson. How did you +find me out?”</p> +<p>“You were at Paris last summer.”</p> +<p>“But you did not see me there.”</p> +<p>“No, but Giacomo did; and from your name and appearance we +felt sure you were the same.”</p> +<p>“Who is Giacomo—your brother?”</p> +<p>“No, my cousin, the son of Luigi.”</p> +<p>“What is he?”</p> +<p>“He belongs to the secret police.”</p> +<p>“So Giacomo put you on the scent?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. He ascertained that you were living in England. +The rest was easy.”</p> +<p>“Oh, it was, was it? You don’t find yourself very +much at ease just now, I fancy. And now, my young friend, I am +going to treat you better than you deserve. I can afford to do so, +for, as you see, and, as your grandfather and your father +discovered to their cost, I bear a charmed life. You cannot kill +me. You may go. And I advise you to return to France or Corsica, or +wherever may be your home, with all speed, for to-morrow I shall +denounce you to the police, and if you are caught you know what to +expect. Who is your accomplice—a kinsman?”</p> +<p>“No, only compatriot, whose acquaintance I made in London. +He is a coward.”</p> +<p>“Evidently. One more question and I have done. Have you +any brothers?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir; two.”</p> +<p>“And about a dozen cousins, I suppose, all of whom would +be delighted to murder me—if they could. Now, give that +gentleman your dagger, and march, <em>au pas +gymnastique</em>.”</p> +<p>With a very ill grace, Giuseppe Griscelli did as he was bid, and +then, rising to his feet, he marched, not, however, at the <em>pas +gymnastique</em>, but slowly and deliberately; and as he reached a +bend in the path a few yards farther on, he turned round and cast +at Mr. Fortescue the most diabolically ferocious glance I ever saw +on a human countenance.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_V" id="Ch_V">Chapter V.</a></h3> +<h2>Thereby Hangs a Tale.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>“You believe now, I hope,” said Mr. Fortescue, as we +walked homeward.</p> +<p>“Believe what, sir?”</p> +<p>“That I have relentless enemies who seek my life. When I +first told you of this you did not believe me. You thought I was +the victim of an hallucination, else had I been more frank with +you.”</p> +<p>“I am really very sorry.”</p> +<p>“Don’t protest! I cannot blame you. It is hard for +people who have led uneventful lives and seen little of the seamy +side of human nature to believe that under the veneer of +civilization and the mask of convention, hatreds are still as +fierce, men still as revengeful as ever they were in olden +times…. I hope I did not make a mistake in sparing young +Griscelli’s life.”</p> +<p>“Sparing his life! How?”</p> +<p>“He sought my life, and I had a perfect right to take +his.”</p> +<p>“That is not a very Christian sentiment, Mr. +Fortescue.”</p> +<p>“I did not say it was. Do you always repay good for evil +and turn your check to the smiter, Mr. Bacon?”</p> +<p>“If you put it in that way, I fear I +don’t.”</p> +<p>“Do you know anybody who does?”</p> +<p>After a moment’s reflection I was again compelled to +answer in the negative. I could not call to mind a single +individual of my acquaintance who acted on the principle of +returning good for evil.</p> +<p>“Well, then, if I am no better than other people, I am no +worse. Yet, after all, I think I did well to let him go. Had I +killed the brigand, there would have been a coroner’s +inquest, and questions asked which might have been troublesome to +answer, and he has brothers and cousins. If I could destroy the +entire brood! Did you see the look he gave me as he went away? It +meant murder. We have not seen the last of Giuseppe Griscelli, Mr. +Bacon.”</p> +<p>“I am afraid we have not. I never saw such an expression +of intense hatred in my life! Has he cause for it?”</p> +<p>“I dare say he thinks so. I killed his father and his +grand-father.”</p> +<p>This, uttered as indifferently as if it were a question of +killing hares and foxes, was more than I could stand. I am not +strait-laced, but I draw the line at murder.</p> +<p>“You did what?” I exclaimed, as, horror-struck and +indignant, I stopped in the path and looked him full in the +face.</p> +<p>I thought I had never seen him so Mephistopheles-like. A +sinister smile parted his lips, showing his small white teeth +gleaming under his gray mustache, and he regarded me with a look of +cynical amusement, in which there was perhaps a slight touch of +contempt.</p> +<p>“You are a young man, Mr. Bacon,” he observed, +gently, “and, like most young men, and a great many old men, +you make false deductions. Killing is not always murder. If it +were, we should consign our conquerors to everlasting infamy, +instead of crowning them with laurels and erecting statues to their +memory. I am no murderer, Mr. Bacon. At the same time I do not +cherish illusions. Unpremeditated murder is by no means the worst +of crimes. Taking a life is only anticipating the inevitable; and +of all murderers, Nature is the greatest and the cruellest. I +have—if I could only tell you—make you see what I have +seen—Even now, O God! though half a century has run its +course—”</p> +<p>Here Mr. Fortescue’s voice failed him; he turned deadly +pale, and his countenance took an expression of the keenest +anguish. But the signs of emotion passed away as quickly as they +had appeared. Another moment and he had fully regained his +composure, and he added, in his usual self-possessed manner:</p> +<p>“All this must seem very strange to you, Mr. Bacon. I +suppose you consider me somewhat of a mystery.”</p> +<p>“Not somewhat, but very much.”</p> +<p>Mr. Fortescue smiled (he never laughed) and reflected a +moment.</p> +<p>“I am thinking,” he said, “how strangely +things come about, and, so to speak, hang together. The greatest of +all mysteries is fate. If that horse had not run away with you, +these rascals would almost certainly have made away with me; and +the incident of to-day is one of the consequences of that which I +mentioned at our first interview.”</p> +<p>“When we had that good run from Latton. I remember it very +well. You said you had been hunted yourself.”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“How was it, Mr. Fortescue?”</p> +<p>“Ah! Thereby hangs a tale.”</p> +<p>“Tell it me, Mr. Fortescue,” I said, eagerly.</p> +<p>“And a very long tale.”</p> +<p>“So much the better; it is sure to be +interesting.”</p> +<p>“Ah, yes, I dare say you would find it interesting. My +life has been stirring and stormy enough, in all +conscience—except for the ten years I spent in heaven,” +said Mr. Fortescue, in a voice and with a look of intense +sadness.</p> +<p>“Ten years in heaven!” I exclaimed, as much +astonished as I had just been horrified. Was the man mad, after +all, or did he speak in paradoxes? “Ten years in +heaven!”</p> +<p>Mr. Fortescue smiled again, and then it occurred to me that his +ten years of heaven might have some connection with the veiled +portrait and the shrine in his room up-stairs.</p> +<p>“You take me too literally,” he said. “I spoke +metaphorically. I did not mean that, like Swedenborg and Mohammed, +I have made excursions to Paradise. I merely meant that I once +spent ten years of such serene happiness as it seldom falls to the +lot of man to enjoy. But to return to our subject. You would like +to know more of my past; but as it would not be satisfactory to +tell you an incomplete history, and to tell you all—Yet why +not? I have done nothing that I am ashamed of; and it is well you +should know something of the man whose life you have saved once, +and may possibly save again. You are trustworthy, straightforward, +and vigilant, and albeit you are not overburdened with +intelligence—”</p> +<p>Here Mr. Fortescue paused, as if to reflect; and, though the +observation was not very flattering—hardly civil, +indeed—I was so anxious to hear this story that I took it in +good part, and waited patiently for his decision.</p> +<p>“To relate it <em>viva voce</em>” he went on, +thoughtfully, “would be troublesome to both of us.”</p> +<p>“I am sure I should find it anything but +troublesome.”</p> +<p>“Well, I should. It would take too much time, and I hate +travelling over old ground. But that is a difficulty which I think +we can get over. For many years I have made a record of the +principal events of my life, in the form of a personal narrative; +and though I have sometimes let it run behind for a while, I have +always written it up.”</p> +<p>“That is exactly the thing. As you say, telling a long +story is troublesome. I can read it.”</p> +<p>“I am afraid not. It is written in a sort of stenographic +cipher of my own invention.”</p> +<p>“That is very awkward,” I said, despondently. +“I know no more of shorthand than of Sanskrit, and though I +once tried to make out a cipher, the only tangible result was a +splitting headache.”</p> +<p>“With the key, which I will give you, a little instruction +and practice, you should have no difficulty in making out my +cipher. It will be an exercise for your +intelligence”—smiling. “Will you try?”</p> +<p>“My very best.”</p> +<p>“And now for the conditions. In the first place, you must, +in stenographic phrase, ‘extend’ my notes, write out +the narrative in a legible hand and good English. If there be any +blanks, I will fill them up; if you require explanations, I will +give them. Do you agree?”</p> +<p>“I agree.”</p> +<p>“The second condition is that you neither make use of the +narrative for any purpose of your own, nor disclose the whole or +any part of it to anybody until and unless I give you leave. What +say you?”</p> +<p>“I say yes.”</p> +<p>“The third and last condition is, that you engage to stay +with me in your present capacity until it pleases me to give you +your <em>congé</em>. Again what say you?”</p> +<p>This was rather a “big order,” and very one-sided. +It bound me to remain with Mr. Fortescue for an indefinite period, +yet left him at liberty to dismiss me at a moment’s notice; +and if he went on living, I might have to stay at Kingscote till I +was old and gray. All the same, the position was a good one. I had +four hundred a year (the price at which I had modestly appraised my +services), free quarters, a pleasant life, and lots of +hunting—all I could wish for, in fact; and what can a man +have more? So again I said, “Yes.”</p> +<p>“We are agreed in all points, then. If you will come into +my room “—we were by this time arrived at the +house—“you shall have your first lesson in +cryptography.”</p> +<p>I assented with eagerness, for I was burning to begin, and, from +what Mr. Fortescue had said, I did not anticipate any great +difficulty in making out the cipher.</p> +<p>But when he produced a specimen page of his manuscript, my +confidence, like Bob Acre’s courage, oozed out at my +finger-ends, or rather, all over me, for I broke out into a cold +sweat.</p> +<p>The first few lines resembled a confused array of algebraic +formula. (I detest algebra.) Then came several lines that seemed to +have been made by the crawlings of tipsy flies with inky legs, +followed by half a dozen or so that looked like the ravings of a +lunatic done into Welsh, while the remainder consisted of Roman +numerals and ordinary figures mixed up, higgledy-piggledy.</p> +<p>“This is nothing less than appalling,” I almost +groaned. “It will take me longer to learn than two or three +languages.”</p> +<p>“Oh, no! When you have got the clew, and learned the +signs, you will read the cipher with ease.”</p> +<p>“Very likely; but when will that be?”</p> +<p>“Soon. The system is not nearly so complicated as it +looks, and the language being English—”</p> +<p>“English! It looks like a mixture of ancient Mexican and +modern Chinese.”</p> +<p>“The language being English, nothing could be easier for a +man of ordinary intelligence. If I had expected that my manuscript +would fall into the hands of a cryptographist, I should have +contrived something much more complicated and written it in several +languages; and you have the key ready to your hand. Come, let us +begin.”</p> +<p>After half an hour’s instruction I began to see daylight, +and to feel that with patience and practice I should be able to +write out the story in legible English. The little I had read with +Mr. Fortescue made me keen to know more; but as the cryptographic +narrative did not begin at the beginning, he proposed that I should +write this, as also any other missing parts, to his dictation.</p> +<p>“Who knows that you may not make a book of it?” he +said.</p> +<p>“Do you think I am intelligent enough?” I asked, +resentfully; for his uncomplimentary references to my mental +capacity were still rankling in my mind.</p> +<p>“I should hope so. Everybody writes in these days. +Don’t worry yourself on that score, my dear Mr. Bacon. Even +though you may write a book, nobody will accuse you of being +exceptionally intelligent.”</p> +<p>“But I cannot make a book of your narrative without your +leave,” I observed, with a painful sense of having gained +nothing by my motion.</p> +<p>“And that leave may be sooner or later forthcoming, on +conditions.”</p> +<p>As the reader will find in the sequel, the leave has been given +and the conditions have been fulfilled, and Mr. Fortescue’s +personal narrative—partly taken down from his own dictation, +but for the most part extended from his manuscript—begins +with the following chapter.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_VI" id="Ch_VI">Chapter VI.</a></h3> +<h2>The Tale Begins.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>The morning after the battle of Salamanca (through which I +passed unscathed) the regiment of dragoons to which I belonged +(forming part of Anson’s brigade), together with Bock’s +Germans, was ordered to follow on the traces of the flying French, +who had retired across the River Tormes. Though we started at +daylight, we did not come up with their rear-guard until noon. It +consisted of a strong force of horse and foot, and made a stand +near La Serna; but the cavalry, who had received a severe lesson on +the previous day, bolted before we could cross swords with them. +The infantry, however, remained firm, and forming square, faced us +like men. The order was then given to charge; and when the two +brigades broke into a gallop and thundered down the slope, they +raised so thick a cloud of dust that all we could see of the enemy +was the glitter of their bayonets and the flash of their +musket-fire. Saddles were emptied both to the right and left of me, +and one of the riderless horses, maddened by a wound in the head, +dashed wildly forward, and leaping among the bayonets and lashing +out furiously with his hind-legs, opened a way into the square. I +was the first man through the gap, and engaged the French colonel +in a hand-to-hand combat. At the very moment just as I gave him the +point in his throat he cut open my shoulder, my horse, mortally +hurt by a bayonet thrust, fell, half rolling over me and crushing +my leg.</p> +<p>As I lay on the ground, faint with the loss of blood and unable +to rise, some of our fellows rode over me, and being hit on the +head by one of their horses, I lost consciousness. When I came to +myself the skirmish was over, nearly the whole of the French +rear-guard had been taken prisoners or cut to pieces, and a surgeon +was dressing my wounds. This done, I was removed in an ambulance to +Salamanca.</p> +<p>The historic old city, with its steep, narrow streets, numerous +convents, and famous university, had been well-nigh ruined by the +French, who had pulled down half the convents and nearly all the +colleges, and used the stones for the building of forts, which, a +few weeks previously, Wellington had bombarded with red-hot +shot.</p> +<p>The hospitals being crowded with sick and wounded, I was +billeted in the house of a certain Señor Don Alberto +Zamorra, which (probably owing to the fact of its having been the +quarters of a French colonel) had not taken much harm, either +during the French occupation of the town or the subsequent siege of +the forts.</p> +<p>Don Alberto gave me a hearty, albeit a dignified welcome, and +being a Spanish gentleman of the old school, he naturally placed +his house, and all that it contained, at my disposal. I did not, of +course, take this assurance literally, and had I not been on the +right side, I should doubtless have met with a very different +reception. All the same, he made a very agreeable host, and before +I had been his guest many days we became fast friends.</p> +<p>Don Zamorra was old, nearly as old as I am now; and as I +speedily discovered, he had passed the greater part of his life in +Spanish America, where he had held high office under the crown. He +could hardly talk about anything else, in fact, and once he began +to discourse about his former greatness and the marvels of the +Indies (as South and Central America were then sometimes called) he +never knew when to stop. He had crossed the Andes and seen the +Amazon, sailed down the Orinoco and visited the mines of Potosi and +Guanajuata, beheld the fiery summit of Cotopaxi, and peeped down +the smoky crater of Acatenango. He told of fights with Indians and +wild animals, of being lost in the forest, and of perilous +expeditions in search of gold and precious stones. When Zamorra +spoke of gold his whole attitude changed, the fires of his youth +blazed up afresh, his face glowed with excitement, and his eyes +sparkled with greed. At these times I saw in him a true type of the +old Spanish Conquestadores, who would baptize a cacique to save him +from hell one day, and kill him and loot his treasure the next.</p> +<p>Don Alberto had, moreover, a firm belief in the existence of the +fabled El Dorado, and of the city of Manoa, with its resplendent +house of the sun, its hoards of silver and gold, and its gilded +king. Thousands of adventurers had gone forth in search of these +wonders, and thousands had perished in the attempt to find them. +Señor Zamorra had sought El Dorado on the banks of the +Orinoco and the Rio Negro; others, near the source of the Rio +Grande and the Marañon; others, again, among the volcanoes +of Salvador and the canons of the Cordilleras. Zamorra believed +that it lay either in the wilds of Guiana, or the unexplored +confines of Peru and the Brazils.</p> +<p>He had heard of and believed even greater wonders—of a +stream on the Pacific coast of Mexico, whose pebbles were silver, +and whose sand was gold; of a volcano in the Peruvian Cordillera, +whose crater was lined with the noblest of metals, and which once +in every hundred years ejected, for days together, diamonds, and +rubies, and dust of gold.</p> +<p>“If that volcano could only be found,” said the don, +with a convulsive clutching of his bony fingers, and a greedy glare +in his aged eyes. “If that volcano could only be found! Why, +it must be made of gold, and covered with precious stones! The man +who found it would be the richest in all the world—richer +than all the people in the world put together!”</p> +<p>“Did you ever see it, Don Alberto?” I asked.</p> +<p>“Did I ever see it?” he cried, uplifting his +withered hands. “If I had seen that volcano you would never +have seen me, but you would have heard of me. I had it from an +Indio whose father once saw it with his own eyes; but I was too +old, too old”—sighing—“to go on the quest. +To undertake such an enterprise a man should be in the prime of +life and go alone. A single companion, even though he were your own +brother, might be fatal; for what virtue could be proof against so +great a temptation—millions of diamonds and a mountain of +gold?”</p> +<p>All this roused my curiosity and fired my imagination—not +that I believed it all, for Zamorra was evidently a visionary with +a fixed idea, and as touching his craze, credulous as a child; but +in those days South America had been very little written about and +not half explored; for me it had all the charm and fascination of +the unknown—a land of romance and adventure, abounding in +grand scenery, peopled by strange races, and containing the +mightiest rivers, the greatest forests, and highest mountains in +the world.</p> +<p>When my host dismounted from his hobby he was an intelligent +talker, and told me much that was interesting about Mexico, Peru, +Guatemala, and the Spanish Main. He had several books on the +subject which I greedily devoured. The expedition of Piedro de +Ursua and Lope de Aguirre in search of El Dorado and Omagua; +“History of the Conquest of Mexico,” by Don Antonio de +Solis; Piedrolieta’s “General History of the Conquest +of the New Kingdom of Grenada,” and others; and before we +parted I had resolved that, so soon as the war was over, I would +make a voyage to the land of the setting sun, and see for myself +the wonders of which I had heard.</p> +<p>“You are right,” said Señor Zamorra, when I +told him of my intention. “America is the country of the +future. Ah, if I were only fifty years younger! You will, of +course, visit Venezuela; and if you visit Venezuela you are sure to +go to Caracas. I will give you a letter of introduction to a friend +of mine there. He is a man in authority, and may be of use to you. +I should much like you to see him and greet him on my +behalf.”</p> +<p>I thanked my host, and promised to see his friend and present +the letter. It was addressed to Don Simon de Ulloa. Little did I +think how much trouble that letter would give me, and how near it +would come to being my death-warrant.</p> +<p>Zamorra then besought me, with tears in his eyes, to go in +search of the Golden Volcano.</p> +<p>“If you could give me a more definite idea of its +whereabouts I might possibly make the attempt,” I answered, +with intentional vagueness; for though I no more believed in the +objective existence of the Golden Volcano than in Aladdin’s +lamp, I did not wish to hurt the old man’s feelings by an +avowal of my skepticism.</p> +<p>“Ah, my dear sir,” he said, with a gesture of +despair, “if I knew the whereabouts of the Golden Volcano, I +should go thither myself, old as I am. I should have gone long ago, +and returned with a hoard of wealth that would make me the master +of Europe—wealth that would buy kingdoms. I can tell you no +more than that it is somewhere in the region of the Peruvian Andes. +It may be that by cautious inquiry you may light on an Indio who +will lead you to the very spot. It is worth the attempt, and if by +the help of St. Peter and the Holy Virgin you succeed, and I am +still alive, send me out of your abundance a few arrobas +(twenty-five pounds) of gold and a handful of diamonds. It is all I +ask.”</p> +<p>It was all he asked.</p> +<p>“When I find that volcano, Don Alberto,” I said, +“not a mere handful of diamonds, but a bucketful.”</p> +<p>This was almost our last talk, for the very same day news was +brought that Lord Wellington, having been forced to raise the siege +of Burgos, was retreating toward the Portuguese frontier, and that +Salamanca would almost inevitably be recaptured by the French. +Orders were given for the removal of the wounded to the Coa, where +the army was to take up its winter quarters, and Zamorra and I had +to part. We parted with mutual expressions of good-will, and in the +hope, destined never to be realized, that we might soon meet again. +I had seen Don Alberto for the last time.</p> +<p>A few weeks later I was sufficiently recovered from my hurts to +use my bridle-arm, and before the opening of the next campaign I +was fit for the field and eager for the fray. It was the campaign +of Vittoria, one of the most brilliant episodes in the military +history of England. Even now my heart beats faster and the blood +tingles in my veins when I think of that time, so full of +excitement, adventure, and glory—the forcing of the Pyrenees, +the invasion of France, the battles of Bayonne, Orthes, and +Toulouse, and the march to Paris.</p> +<p>But as I am not relating a history of the war, I shall mention +only one incident in which I was concerned at this period—an +incident that brought me in contact with a man who was destined to +exercise a fateful influence on my career.</p> +<p>It occurred after the battle of Vittoria. The French were making +for the Pyrenees, laden with the loot of a kingdom and encumbered +with a motley crowd of non-combatants—the wives and families +of French officers, fair señoritas flying with their lovers, +and traitorous Spaniards, who, by taking sides with the invaders, +had exposed themselves to the vengeance of the patriots. So +overwhelming was the defeat of the French, that they were forced to +abandon nearly the whole of their plunder and the greater part of +their baggage, and leave the fugitives and camp-followers to their +fate.</p> +<p>Never was witnessed so strange a sight as the valley of Vittoria +presented at the close of that eventful day. The broken remains of +the French army hurrying toward the Pamplona road, eighty pieces of +artillery, served with frantic haste, covering their retreat; +thousands of wagons and carriages jammed together and unable to +move; the red-coated infantry of England, marching steadily across +the plain; the boom of the cannon, the rattle of musketry, the +scream of women as the bullets whistled through the air and shells +burst over their heads—all this made up a scene, dramatic and +picturesque, it is true, yet full of dire confusion and Dantesque +horror; for death had reaped a rich harvest, and thousands of +wounded lay writhing on the blood-stained field.</p> +<p>Owing to the bursting of packages, the overturning of wagons, +and the havoc wrought by shot and shell, valuable effects, coin, +gems, gold and silver candlesticks and vessels, priceless +paintings, the spoil of Spanish churches and convents, were strewed +over the ground. There was no need to plunder; our men picked up +money as they matched, and it was computed that a sum equal to a +million sterling found its way into their knapsacks and +pockets.</p> +<p>Our Spanish allies, officers as well as privates, were less +scrupulous. They robbed like highwaymen, and protested that they +were only taking their own.</p> +<p>While riding toward Vittoria to execute an order of the +colonel’s, I passed a carriage which a moment or two +previously had been overtaken by several of Longa’s dragoons, +with the evident intention of overhauling it. In the carriage were +two ladies, one young and pretty the other good-looking and mature; +and, as I judged from their appearance, both being well dressed, +the daughter and wife of a French officer of rank. They appealed to +me for help.</p> +<p>“You are an English officer,” said the elder in +French; “all the world knows that your nation is as +chivalrous as it is brave. Protect us, I pray you, from these +ruffians.”</p> +<p>I bowed, and turning to the Spaniards, one of whom was an +officer, spoke them fair; for my business was pressing, and I had +no wish to be mixed up in a quarrel.</p> +<p>“Caballeros,” I said, “we do not make war on +women. You will let these ladies go.”</p> +<p>“<em>Carambo!</em> We shall do nothing of the sort,” +returned the officer, insolently. “These ladies are our +prisoners, and their carriage and all it contains our +prize.”</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon, Señor Capitan, but you are, +perhaps not aware that Lord Wellington has given strict orders that +private property is to be respected; and no true caballero molests +women.”</p> +<p>“<em>Hijo de Dios!</em> Dare you say that I am no true +caballero? Begone this instant, or—”</p> +<p>The Spaniard drew his sword; I drew mine; his men began to look +to the priming of their pistols, and had General Anson not chanced +to come by just in the nick of time, it might have gone ill with +me. On learning what had happened, he said I had acted very +properly and told the Spaniards that if they did not promptly +depart he would hand them over to the provost-marshal.</p> +<p>“We shall meet again, I hope, you and I,” said the +officer, defiantly, as he gathered up his reins.</p> +<p>“So do I, if only that I may have an opportunity of +chastising you for your insolence,” was my equally defiant +answer.</p> +<p>“A thousand thanks, monsieur! You have done me and my +daughter a great service,” said the elder of the ladies. +“Do me the pleasure to accept this ring as a slight souvenir +of our gratitude, and I trust that in happier times we may meet +again.”</p> +<p>I accepted the souvenir without looking at it; reciprocated the +wish in my best French, made my best bow, and rode off on my +errand. By the same act I had made one enemy and two friends; +therefore, as I thought, the balance was in my favor. But I was +wrong, for a wider experience of the world than I then possessed +has taught me that it is better to miss making a hundred ordinary +friends than to make one inveterate enemy.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_VII" id="Ch_VII">Chapter VII.</a></h3> +<h2>In Quest of Fortune.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>When the war came to an end my occupation was gone, for both +circumstances and my own will compelled me to leave the army. My +allowance could no longer be continued. At the best, the life of a +lieutenant of dragoons in peace time would have been little to my +liking; with no other resource than my pay, it would have been +intolerable. So I sent in my papers, and resolved to seek my +fortune in South America. After the payment of my debts (incurred +partly in the purchase of my first commission) and the provision of +my outfit, the sum left at my disposal was comparatively trifling. +But I possessed a valuable asset in the ring given me by the French +lady on the field of Vittoria. It was heavy, of antique make, +curiously wrought, and set with a large sapphire of incomparable +beauty. A jeweler, to whom I showed it, said he had never seen a +finer. I could have sold it for a hundred guineas. But as the gem +was property in a portable shape and more convertible than a bill +of exchange, I preferred to keep it, taking, however, the +precaution to have the sapphire covered with a composition, in +order that its value might not be too readily apparent to covetous +eyes.</p> +<p>At this time the Spanish colonies of Colombia (including the +countries now known as Venezuela, New Granada, and Ecuador, as also +the present republic of southern Central America) were in full +revolt against the mother country. The war had been going on for +several years with varying fortunes; but latterly the Spaniards had +been getting decidedly the best of it. Caracas and all the seaport +towns were in their possession, and the patriot cause was only +maintained by a few bands of irregulars, who were waging a +desperate and almost hopeless contest in the forests and on the +llanos of the interior.</p> +<p>My sympathies were on the popular side, and I might have joined +the volunteer force which was being raised in England for service +with the insurgents. But this did not suit my purpose. If I +accepted a commission in the Legion I should have to go where I was +ordered. I preferred to go where I listed. I had no objection to +fighting, but I wanted to do it in my own way and at my own time, +and rather in the ranks of the rebels themselves than as officer in +a foreign force.</p> +<p>This view of the case I represented to Señor +Moreña, one of the “patriot” agents in London, +and asked his advice.</p> +<p>“Why not go to Caracas?” he said.</p> +<p>“What would be the use of that? Caracas is in the hands of +the Spaniards.”</p> +<p>“You could get from Caracas into the interior, and do the +cause an important service.”</p> +<p>“How?”</p> +<p>Señor Moreña explained that the patriots of the +capital, being sorely oppressed by the Spaniards, were losing +courage, and he wished greatly to send them a message of hope and +the assurance that help was at hand. It was also most desirable +that the insurgent leaders on the field should be informed of the +organization of a British liberating Legion, and of other measures +which were being taken to afford them relief and turn the tide of +victory in their favor.</p> +<p>But to communicate these tidings to the parties concerned was by +no means easy. The post was obviously quite out of the question, +and no Spanish creole could land at any port held by the Royalists +without the almost certainty of being promptly strangled or shot. +“An Englishman, however—especially an Englishman who +had fought under Wellington in Spain—might undertake the +mission with comparative impunity,” said Señor +Moreña.</p> +<p>“I understand perfectly,” I answered. “I have +to go in the character of an ordinary travelling Englishman, and +act as an emissary of the insurgent junta. But if my true character +is detected, what then?”</p> +<p>“That is not at all likely, Mr. Fortescue.”</p> +<p>“Yet the unlikely happens sometimes—happens +generally, in fact. Suppose it does in the present +instance?”</p> +<p>“In that case I am very much afraid that you would be +shot.”</p> +<p>“I have not a doubt of it. Nevertheless, your proposal +pleases me, and I shall do my best to carry out your +wishes.”</p> +<p>Whereupon Señor Moreña expressed his thanks in +sonorous Castilian, protested that my courage and devotion would +earn me the eternal gratitude of every patriot, and promised to +have everything ready for me in the course of the week, a promise +which he faithfully kept.</p> +<p>Three days later Moreña brought me a packet of letters +and a memorandum containing minute instructions for my guidance. +Nothing could be more harmless looking than the letters. They +contained merely a few items of general news and the recommendation +of the bearer to the good offices of the recipient. But this was +only a blind; the real letters were written in cipher, with +sympathetic ink. They were, moreover, addressed to secret friends +of the revolutionary cause, who, as Señor Moreña +believed and hoped, were, as yet, unsuspected by the Spanish +authorities, and at large.</p> +<p>“To give you letters to known patriots would be simply to +insure your destruction,” said the señor, “even +if you were to find them alive and at liberty.”</p> +<p>I had also Don Alberto’s letter, and as the old gentleman +had once been president of the <em>Audiencia Real</em> (Royal +Council), Moreña thought it would be of great use to me, and +serve to ward off suspicion, even though some of the friends to +whom he had himself written should have meanwhile got into +trouble.</p> +<p>But as if he had not complete confidence in the efficacy of +these elaborate precautions, Señor Moreña strongly +advised me to stay no longer in Caracas than I could possibly +help.</p> +<p>“Spies more vigilant than those of the Inquisition are +continually on the lookout for victims,” he said. “An +inadvertent word, a look even, might betray you; the only law is +the will of the military and police, and they make very short work +of those whom they suspect. Yes, leave Caracas the moment you have +delivered your letters; our friends will smuggle you through the +Spanish line and lead you to one of the patriot camps.”</p> +<p>This was not very encouraging; but I was at an adventurous age +and in an enterprising mood, and the creole’s warnings had +rather the effect of increasing my desire to go forward with the +undertaking in which I had engaged than causing me to falter in my +resolve. Like Napoleon, I believed in my star, and I had faced +death too often on the field of battle to fear the rather remote +dangers Moreña had foreshadowed, and in whose existence I +only half believed.</p> +<p>The die being cast, the next question was how I should reach my +destination. The Spaniards of that age kept the trade with their +colonies in their own hands, and it was seldom, indeed, that a ship +sailed from the Thames for La Guayra or any other port on the Main. +I was, however, lucky enough to find a vessel in the river taking +in cargo for the island of Curaçoa, which had just been +ceded by England to the Dutch, from whom it was captured in 1807, +and for a reasonable consideration the master agreed to fit me up a +cabin and give me a passage.</p> +<p>The voyage was rather long—something like fifty +days—yet not altogether uneventful; for in the course of it +we were chased by an American privateer, overhauled by a Spanish +cruiser, nearly caught by a pirate, and almost swamped in a +hurricane; but we fortunately escaped these and all other dangers, +and eventually reached our haven in safety.</p> +<p>I had brought with me letters of credit on a Dutch merchant at +Curaçoa, of the name of Van Voorst, from whom I obtained as +much coin as I thought would cover my expenses for a few months, +and left the balance in his hands on deposit. With the help of this +gentleman, moreover, I chartered a <em>falucha</em> for the voyage +to La Guayra. Also at his suggestion, moreover, I stitched several +gold pieces in the lining of my vest and the waistband of my +trousers, as a reserve in case of accident.</p> +<p>We made the run in twenty-four hours, and as the +<em>falucha</em> let go in the roadstead I tore up my memorandum of +instructions (which I had carefully committed to memory) and threw +the fragments into the sea.</p> +<p>A little later we were boarded by two revenue officers, who +seemed more surprised than pleased to see me; as, however, my +papers were in perfect order, and nothing either compromising or +contraband was found in my possession, they allowed me to land, and +I thought that my troubles (for the present) were over. But I had +not been ashore many minutes when I was met by a sergeant and a +file of soldiers, who asked me politely, yet firmly, to accompany +them to the commandant of the garrison.</p> +<p>I complied, of course, and was conducted to the barracks, where +I found the gentleman in question lolling in a <em>chinchura</em> +(hammock) and smoking a cigar. He eyed me with great suspicion, and +after examining my passport, demanded my business, and wanted to +know why I had taken it into my head to visit Colombia at a time +when the country was being convulsed with civil war.</p> +<p>Thinking it best to answer frankly (with one or two +reservations), I said that, having heard much of South America +while campaigning in Spain, I had made up my mind to voyage thither +on the first opportunity.</p> +<p>“What! you have served in Spain, in the army of Lord +Wellington!” interposed the commandant with great +vivacity.</p> +<p>“Yes; I joined shortly before the battle of Salamanca, +where I was wounded. I was also at Vittoria, and—”</p> +<p>“So was I. I commanded a regiment in Murillo’s +<em>corps d’armée</em>, and have come out with him to +Colombia. We are brothers in arms. We have both bled in the sacred +cause of Spanish independence. Let me embrace you.”</p> +<p>Whereupon the commandant, springing from his hammock, put his +arms round my neck and his head on my shoulders, patted me on the +back, and kissed me on both cheeks, a salute which I thought it +expedient to return, though his face was not overclean and he +smelled abominably of garlic and stale tobacco.</p> +<p>“So you have come to see South America—only to see +it!” he said. “But perhaps you are scientific; you have +the intention to explore the country and write a book, like the +illustrious Humboldt?”</p> +<p>The idea was useful. I modestly admitted that I did cultivate a +little science, and allowed my “brother-in-arms” to +remain in the belief that I proposed to follow in the footsteps of +the author of “Cosmos”—at a distance.</p> +<p>“I have an immense respect for science,” continued +the commandant, “and I doubt not that you will write a book +which will make you famous. My only regret is, that in the present +state of the country you may find going about rather difficult. But +it won’t be for long. We have well-nigh got this accursed +rebellion under. A few weeks more, and there will not be a rebel +left alive between the Andes and the Atlantic. The Captain-General +of New Granada reports that he has either shot or hanged every +known patriot in the province. We are doing the same here in +Venezuela. We give no quarter; it is the only way with rebels. +<em>Guerra a la muerte!</em>”</p> +<p>After this the commandant asked me to dinner, and insisted on my +becoming his guest until the morrow, when he would provide me with +mules for myself and my baggage, and give me an escort to Caracas, +and letter of introduction to one of his friends there. So great +was his kindness, indeed, that only the ferocious sentiments which +he had avowed in respect of the rebels reconciled me to the +deception which I was compelled to practise. I accepted his +hospitality and his offer of mules and an escort, and the next +morning I set out on the first stage of my inland journey. Before +parting he expressed a hope—which I deemed it prudent to +reciprocate—that we should meet again.</p> +<p>Nothing can be finer than the ride to Caracas by the old Spanish +road, or more superb than its position in a magnificent valley, +watered by four rivers, surrounded by a rampart of lofty mountains, +and enjoying, by reason of its altitude, a climate of perpetual +spring. But the city itself wore an aspect of gloom and desolation. +Four years previously the ground on which it stood had been torn +and rent by a succession of terrible earthquakes in which hundreds +of houses were levelled with the earth, and thousands of its people +bereft of their lives. Since that time two sieges, and wholesale +proscription and executions, first by one side and then by the +other, had well-nigh completed its destruction. Its principal +buildings were still in ruins, and half its population had either +perished or fled. Nearly every civilian whom I met in the streets +was in mourning. Even the Royalists (who were more numerous than I +expected) looked unhappy, for all had suffered either in person or +in property, and none knew what further woes the future might bring +them.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_VIII" id="Ch_VIII">Chapter VIII.</a></h3> +<h2>In the King’s Name.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>I put up at the Posado de los Generales (recommended by the +commandant), and the day after my arrival I delivered the letters +confided to me by Señor Moreño. This done, I felt +safe; for (as I thought) there was nothing else in my possession by +which I could possibly be compromised. I did not deliver the +letters separately. I gave the packet, just as I had received it, +to a certain Señor Carera, the secret chief of the patriot +party in Caracas. I also gave him a long verbal message from +Moreño, and we discussed at length the condition of the +country and the prospects of the insurrection. In the interior, he +said, there raged a frightful guerilla warfare, and Caracas was +under a veritable reign of terror. Of the half-dozen friends for +whom I had brought letters, one had been garroted; another was in +prison, and would almost certainly meet the same fate. It was only +by posing as a loyalist and exercising the utmost circumspection +that he had so far succeeded in keeping a whole skin; and if he +were not convinced that he could do more for the cause where he was +than elsewhere, he would not remain in the city another hour. As +for myself, he was quite of Moreño’s opinion, that the +sooner I got away the better.</p> +<p>“I consider it my duty to watch over your safety,” +he said. “I should be sorry indeed were any harm to befall an +English caballero who has risked his life to serve us and brought +us such good news.”</p> +<p>“What harm can befall me, now that I have got rid of that +packet?” I asked.</p> +<p>“In a city under martial law and full of spies, there is +no telling what may happen. Being, moreover, a stranger, you are a +marked man. It is not everybody who, like the commandant of La +Guayra, will believe that you are travelling for your own pleasure. +What man in his senses would choose a time like this for a +scientific ramble in Venezuela?”</p> +<p>And then Señor Carera explained that he could arrange for +me to leave Caracas almost immediately, under excellent guidance. +The <em>teniente</em> of Colonel Mejia, one of the guerilla +leaders, was in the town on a secret errand, and would set out on +his return journey in three days. If I liked I might go with him, +and I could not have a better guide or a more trustworthy +companion.</p> +<p>It was a chance not to be lost. I told Señor Carera that +I should only be too glad to profit by the opportunity, and that on +any day and at any hour which he might name I would be ready.</p> +<p>“I will see the <em>teniente</em>, and let you know +further in the course of to-morrow,” said Carera, after a +moment’s thought. “The affair will require nice +management. There are patrols on every road. You must be well +mounted, and I suppose you will want a mule for your +baggage.”</p> +<p>“No! I shall take no more than I can carry in my +saddle-bags. We must not be incumbered with pack-mules on an +expedition of this sort. We may have to ride for our +lives.”</p> +<p>“You are quite right, Señor Fortescue; so you may. +I will see that you are well mounted, and I shall be delighted to +take charge of your belongings until the patriots again, and for +the last time, capture Caracas and drive those thrice-accursed +Spaniards into the sea.”</p> +<p>Before we separated I invited Señor Carera to +<em>almuerzo</em> (the equivalent to the Continental second +breakfast) on the following day.</p> +<p>After a moment’s reflection he accepted the invitation. +“But we shall have to be very cautious,” he added. +“The <em>posada</em> is a Royalist house, and the +<em>posadero</em> (innkeeper) is hand and glove with the police. If +we speak of the patriots at all, it must be only to abuse +them…. But our turn will come, and—<em>por +Dios!</em>—then—”</p> +<p>The fierce light in Carera’s eyes, the gesture by which +his words were emphasized, boded no good for the Royalists if the +patriots should get the upper hand. No wonder that a war in which +men like him were engaged on the one side, and men like el +Commandant Castro on the other, should be savage, merciless, and +“to the death.”</p> +<p>As I had decided to quit Caracas so soon, it did not seem worth +while presenting the letter to one of his brother officers which I +had received from Commandant Castro. I thought, too, that in +existing circumstances the less I had to do with officers the +better. But I did not like the idea of going away without +fulfilling my promise to call on Zamorra’s old friend, Don +Señor Ulloa.</p> +<p>So when I returned to the <em>posada</em> I asked the +<em>posadero</em> (innkeeper), a tall Biscayan, with an immensely +long nose, a cringing manner, and an insincere smile, if he would +kindly direct me to Señor Ulloa’s house.</p> +<p>“<em>Si, señor</em>,” said the +<em>posadero</em>, giving me a queer look, and exchanging +significant glances with two or three of his guests who were within +earshot. “<em>Si, señor</em>, I can direct you to the +house of Señor Ulloa. You mean Don Simon, of +course?”</p> +<p>“Yes. I have a letter of introduction to him.”</p> +<p>“Oh, you have a letter of introduction to Don Simon! if +you will come into the street I will show you the way.”</p> +<p>Whereupon we went outside, and the <em>posadero</em>, pointing +out the church of San Ildefonso, told me that the large house over +against the eastern door was the house I sought.</p> +<p>“<em>Gracias, señor</em>,” I said, as I +started on my errand, taking the shady side of the street and +walking slowly, for the day was warm.</p> +<p>I walked slowly and thought deeply, trying to make out what +could be the meaning of the glances which the mention of +Señor Ulloa’s name had evoked, and there was a +nameless something in the <em>posadero’s</em> manner I did +not like. Besides being cringing, as usual, it was half mocking, +half menacing, as if I had said, or he had heard, something that +placed me in his power.</p> +<p>Yet what could he have heard? What could there be in the name of +Ulloa to either excite his enmity or rouse his suspicion? As a man +in authority, and the particular friend of an ex-president of the +<em>Audiencia Real</em>, Don Simon must needs be above +reproach.</p> +<p>Should I turn back and ask the <em>posadero</em> what he meant? +No, that were both weak and impolitic. He would either answer me +with a lie, or refuse to answer at all, <em>qui s’excuse +s’accuse</em>. I resolved to go on, and see what came of it. +Don Simon would no doubt be able to enlighten me.</p> +<p>I found the place without difficulty. There could be no +mistaking it—a large house over against the eastern door of +the church of San Ildefonso, built round a <em>patio</em>, or +courtyard, after the fashion of Spanish and South American +mansions. Like the church, it seemed to have been much damaged by +the earthquake; the outer walls were cracked, and the gateway was +encumbered with fallen stones.</p> +<p>This surprised me less than may be supposed. Creoles are not +remarkable for energy, and it was quite possible that Señor +Ulloa’s fortunes might have suffered as severely from the war +as his house had suffered from the earthquake. But when I entered +the <em>patio</em> I was more than surprised. The only visible +signs of life were lizards, darting in and out of their holes, and +a huge rattlesnake sunning himself on the ledge of a broken +fountain. Grass was growing between the stones; rotten doors hung +on rusty hinges; there were great gaps in the roof and huge +fissures in the walls, and when I called no one answered.</p> +<p>“Surely,” I thought, “I have made some +mistake. This house is both deserted and ruined.”</p> +<p>I returned to the street and accosted a passer-by.</p> +<p>“Is this the house of Don Simon Ulloa?” I asked +him.</p> +<p>“<em>Si, Señor</em>,” he said; and then +hurried on as if my question had half-frightened him out of his +wits.</p> +<p>I could not tell what to make of this; but my first idea was +that Señor Ulloa was dead, and the house had the reputation +of being haunted. In any case, the innkeeper had evidently played +me a scurvy trick, and I went back to the <em>posada</em> with the +full intention of having it out with him.</p> +<p>“Did you find the house of Don Simon, Señor +Fortescue?” he asked when he saw me.</p> +<p>“Yes, but I did not find him. The house is empty and +deserted. What do you mean by sending me on such a fool’s +errand?”</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon, señor. You asked me to direct +you to Señor Ulloa’s house, and I did so. What could I +do more?” And the fellow cringed and smirked, as if it were +all a capital joke, till I could hardly refrain from pulling his +long nose first and kicking him afterwards, but I listened to the +voice of prudence and resisted the impulse.</p> +<p>“You know quite well that I sought Señor Ulloa. Did +I not tell you that I had a letter for him? If you were a caballero +instead of a wretched <em>posadero</em>, I would chastise your +trickery as it deserves. What has become of Señor Ulloa, and +how comes it that his house is deserted?”</p> +<p>“Señor Ulloa is dead. He was garroted.”</p> +<p>“Garroted! What for?”</p> +<p>“Treason. There was discovered a compromising +correspondence between him and Bolivar. But why ask me? As a friend +of Señor Ulloa, you surely know all this?”</p> +<p>“I never was a friend of his—never even saw him! I +had merely a letter to him from a common friend. But how happened +it that Señor Ulloa, who, I believe, was a +<em>correjidor</em>, entered into a correspondence with the +arch-traitor?”</p> +<p>“That made it all the worse. He richly deserved his fate. +His eldest son, who was privy to the affair, was strangled at the +same time as his father; his other children fled, and Señora +Ulloa died of grief.”</p> +<p>“Poor woman! No wonder the house is deserted. What a +frightful state of things!”</p> +<p>And then, feeling that I had said enough, and fearing that I +might say more, I turned on my heel, lighted a cigar, and, while I +paced to and fro in the <em>patio</em>, seriously considered my +position, which, as I clearly perceived, was beginning to be rather +precarious.</p> +<p>As likely as not the innkeeper would denounce me, and then it +would, of course, be very absurd, for I was utterly ignorant, and +Zamorra, a Royalist to the bone, must have been equally ignorant +that his friend Ulloa had any hand in the rebellion. The mere fact +of carrying a harmless letter of introduction from a well-known +loyalist to a friend whom he believed to be still a loyalist, could +surely not be construed as an offense. At any rate it ought not to +be. But when I recalled all I had heard from Moreña, and the +stories told me but an hour before by Carera, I thought it +extremely probable that it would be, and bitterly regretted that I +had not mentioned to the latter Ulloa’s name. He would have +put me on my guard, and I should not have so fatally committed +myself with the <em>posadero</em>.</p> +<p>But regrets are useless and worse. They waste time and weaken +resolve. The question of the moment was, What should I do? How +avoid the danger which I felt sure was impending? There seemed only +one way—immediate flight. I would go to Carera, tell him all +that had happened, and ask him to arrange for my departure from +Caracas that very night. I could steal away unseen when all was +quiet.</p> +<p>“At once,” I said to myself—“at once. If +I exaggerate, if the danger be not so pressing as I fear, he is +just the man to tell me; but, first of all, I will go into my room +and destroy this confounded letter. The <em>posadero</em> did not +see it. All that he can say is—”</p> +<p>“In the king’s name!” exclaimed a rough voice +behind me; and a heavy hand was laid on my arm.</p> +<p>Turning sharply round, I found myself confronted by an officer +of police and four alguazils, all armed to the teeth.</p> +<p>“I arrest you in the king’s name,” repeated +the officer.</p> +<p>“On what charge?” I asked.</p> +<p>“Treason. Giving aid and comfort to the king’s +enemies, and acting as a medium of communication between rebels +against his authority.”</p> +<p>“Very well; I am ready to accompany you,” I said, +seeing that, for the moment at least, resistance and escape were +equally out of the question; “but the charge is +false.”</p> +<p>“That I have nothing to do with. The case is one for the +military tribunal. Before we go I must search your room.”</p> +<p>He did so, and, except my passport, found nothing whatever of a +documentary, much less of a compromising character. He then +searched me, and took possession of Zamorra’s unlucky letter +to Ulloa and my memorandum-book, in which, however, there were +merely a few commonplace notes and scientific jottings.</p> +<p>This done he placed two of his alguazils on either side of me, +telling them to run me through with their bayonets if I attempted +to escape, and then, drawing his sword and bringing up the rear, +gave the order to march.</p> +<p>As we passed through the gateway I caught sight of the +<em>posadero</em>, laughing consumedly, and pointing at me the +finger of scorn and triumph. How sorry I felt that I had not kicked +him when I was in the humor and had the opportunity!</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_IX" id="Ch_IX">Chapter IX.</a></h3> +<h2>Doomed to Die.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>My captors conducted me to a dilapidated building near the Plaza +Major, which did duty as a temporary jail, the principal prison of +Caracas having been destroyed by the earthquake and left as it +fell. Nevertheless, the room to which I was taken seemed quite +strong enough to hold anybody unsupplied with housebreaking +implements or less ingenious than Jack Sheppard. The door was thick +and well bolted, the window or grating (for it was, of course, +destitute of glass) high and heavily barred, yet not too high to be +reached with a little contrivance. Mounting the single chair +(beside a hammock the only furniture the room contained), I gripped +the bars with my hands, raised myself up, and looked out. Below me +was a narrow, and, as it might appear, a little-frequented street, +at the end of which a sentry was doing his monotonous spell of +duty.</p> +<p>The place was evidently well guarded, and from the number of +soldiers whom I had seen about the gateway and in the +<em>patio</em>, I concluded that, besides serving as a jail, it was +used also as a military post. Even though I might get out, I should +not find it very easy to get away. And what were my chances of +getting out? As yet they seemed exceedingly remote. The only +possible exits were the door and the window. The door was both +locked and bolted, and either to open or make an opening in it I +should want a brace and bit and a saw, and several hours freedom +from intrusion. It would be easier to cut the bars—if I +possessed a file or a suitable saw. I had my knife, and with time +and patience I might possibly fashion a tool that would answer the +purpose.</p> +<p>But time was just what I might not be able to command. I had +heard that the sole merit of the military tribunal was its +promptitude; it never kept its victims long in suspense; they were +either quickly released or as quickly despatched—the latter +being the alternative most generally adopted. It was for this +reason that, the moment I was arrested, I began to think how I +could escape. As neither opening the door nor breaking the bars +seemed immediately feasible, the idea of bribing the turnkey +naturally occurred to me. Thanks to the precaution suggested by Mr. +Van Voorst, I had several gold pieces in my belt. But though the +fellow would no doubt accept my money, what security had I that he +would keep his word? And how, even if he were to leave the door +open, should I evade the vigilance of the sentries and the soldiers +who were always loitering in the <em>patio</em>?</p> +<p>On the whole, I thought the best thing I could do was to wait +quietly until the morrow. The night is often fruitful in ideas. I +might be acquitted, after all, and if I attempted to bribe the +turnkey before my examination, and he should betray me to his +superiors, my condemnation would be a foregone conclusion. The mere +attempt would be regarded as an admission of guilt.</p> +<p>A while later, the zambo turnkey (half Indian, half negro) +brought me my evening meal—a loaf of bread and a small bottle +of wine—and I studied his countenance closely. It was both +treacherous and truculent, and I felt that if I trusted him he +would be sure to play me false.</p> +<p>As it was near sunset I asked for a light, and tried to engage +him in conversation. But the attempt failed. He answered surlily, +that a dark room was quite good enough for a damned rebel, and left +me to myself.</p> +<p>When it became too dark to walk about, I lay down in the hammock +and was soon in the land of dreams; for I was young and sanguine, +and though I could not help feeling somewhat anxious, it was not +the sort of anxiety which kills sleep. Only once in my life have I +tasted the agony of despair. That time was not yet.</p> +<p>When I awoke the clock of a neighboring church was striking +three, and the rays of a brilliant tropical moon were streaming +through the barred window of my room, making it hardly less light +than day.</p> +<p>As the echo of the last stroke dies away, I fancy that I hear +something strike against the grating.</p> +<p>I rise up in my hammock, listening intently, and at the same +instant a small shower of pebbles, flung by an unseen hand, falls +into the room.</p> +<p>A signal!</p> +<p>Yes, and a signal that demands an answer. In less time than it +takes to tell I slip from my hammock, gather up the pebbles, climb +up to the window, and drop them into the street. Then, looking out, +I can just discern, deep in the shadow of the building opposite, +the figure of a man. He raises his arm; something white flies over +my head and falls on the floor. Dropping hurriedly from the +grating, I pick up the message-bearing missile—a pebble to +which is tied a piece of paper. I can see that the paper contains +writing, and climbing a second time up to the grating, I make out +by the light of the moonbeams the words:</p> +<p>“<em>If you are condemned, ask for a +priest.</em>”</p> +<p>My first feeling was one of bitter disappointment. Why should I +ask for a priest? I was not a Roman Catholic; I did not want to +confess. If the author of the missive was Carera—and who else +could it be?—why had he given himself so much trouble to make +so unpleasantly suggestive a recommendation? A priest, forsooth! A +file and a cord would be much more to the purpose…. But +might not the words mean more than appeared? Could it be that +Carera desired to give me a friendly hint to prepare for the +worst?… Or was it possible that the ghostly man would bring +me a further message and help me in some way to escape? At any +rate, it was a more encouraging theory than the other, and I +resolved to act on it. If the priest did me no good, he could, at +least, do me no harm.</p> +<p>After tearing up the bit of paper and chewing the fragments, I +returned to my hammock and lay awake—sleep being now out of +the question—until the turnkey brought me a cup of chocolate, +of which, with the remains of the loaf, I made my first breakfast. +About the middle of the day he brought me something more +substantial. On both occasions I pressed him with questions as to +when I was to be examined, and what they were going to do with me, +to all of which he answered “<em>No se</em>” (“I +don’t know”), and, probably enough, he told the truth. +However, I was not kept long in suspense. Later on in the afternoon +the door opened for the third time, and the officer who had +arrested me, followed by his alguazils, appeared at the threshold +and announced that he had been ordered to escort me to the +tribunal.</p> +<p>We went in the same order as before; and a walk of less than +fifteen minutes brought us to another tumble-down building, which +appeared to have been once a court-house. Only the lower rooms were +habitable, and at a door, on either side of which stood a sentry, +my conductor respectfully knocked.</p> +<p>“<em>Adelante!</em>” said a rough voice; and we +entered accordingly.</p> +<p>Before a long table at the upper end of a large, +barely-furnished room, with rough walls and a cracked ceiling, sat +three men in uniform. The one who occupied the chief seat, and +seemed to be the president, was old and gray, with hard, suspicious +eyes, and a long, typical Spanish face, in every line of which I +read cruelty and ruthless determination. His colleagues, who called +him “marquis,” treated him with great deference, and +his breast was covered with orders.</p> +<p>It was evident that on this man would depend my fate. The others +were there merely to register his decrees.</p> +<p>After leading me to the table and saluting the tribunal, the +officer of police, whose sword was still drawn, placed himself in a +convenient position for running me through, in the event of my +behaving disrespectfully to the tribunal or attempting to +escape.</p> +<p>The president, who had before him the letter to Señor +Ulloa, my passport, and a document that looked like a brief, +demanded my name and quality.</p> +<p>I told him.</p> +<p>“What was your purpose in coming to Caracas?” he +asked.</p> +<p>“Simply to see the country.”</p> +<p>He laughed scornfully.</p> +<p>“To see the country! What nonsense is this? How can +anybody see a country which is ravaged by brigands and convulsed +with civil war? And where is your authority?”</p> +<p>“My passport.”</p> +<p>“A passport such as this is only available in a time of +peace. No stranger unprovided with a safe conduct from the +<em>capitan-general</em> is allowed to travel in the province of +Caracas. It is useless trying to deceive us, señor. Your +purpose is to carry information to the rebels, probably to join +them, as is proved by your possession of a letter to so base a +traitor as Señor Ulloa.”</p> +<p>On this I explained how I had obtained the letter, and pointed +out that the very fact of my asking the <em>posadero</em> to direct +me to Ulloa’s house, and going thither openly, was proof +positive of my innocence. Had my purpose been that which he imputed +to me, I should have shown more caution.</p> +<p>“That does not at all follow,” rejoined the +president. “You may have intended to disarm suspicion by a +pretence of ignorance. Moreover, you expressed to the +<em>señor posadero</em> sentiments hostile to the Government +of his Majesty the King.”</p> +<p>“It is untrue. I did nothing of the sort,” I +exclaimed, impetuously.</p> +<p>“Mind what you say, prisoner. Unless you treat the +tribunal with due respect you shall be sent back to the +<em>carcel</em> and tried in your absence.”</p> +<p>“Do you call this a trial?” I exclaimed, +indignantly. “I am a British subject. I have committed no +offence; but if I must be tried I demand the right of being tried +by a civil tribunal.”</p> +<p>“British subjects who venture into a city under martial +law must take the consequences. We can show them no more +consideration than we show Spanish subjects. They deserve much +less, indeed. At this moment a force is being organized in England, +with the sanction and encouragement of the British Government, to +serve against our troops in these colonies. This is an act of war, +and if the king, my master, were of my mind, he would declare war +against England. Better an open foe than a treacherous friend. Do +you hold a commission in the Legion, señor?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“Know you anybody who does?”</p> +<p>“Yes; I believe that several men with whom I served in +Spain have accepted commissions. But you will surely not hold me +responsible for the doings of others?”</p> +<p>“Not at all. You have quite enough sins of your own to +answer for. You may not actually hold a commission in this force of +filibusters, but you are acquainted with people who do; and from +your own admission and facts that have come to our knowledge, we +believe that you are acting as an intermediary between the rebels +in this country and their agents in England. It is an insult to our +understanding to tell us that you have come here out of idle +curiosity. You have come to spy out the nakedness of the land, and +being a soldier you know how spies are dealt with.”</p> +<p>Here the president held a whispered consultation with his +colleagues. Then he turned to me, and continued:</p> +<p>“We are of opinion that the charges against you have been +fully made out, and the sentence of the court is that you be +strangled on the Plaza Major to-morrow morning at seven by the +clock.”</p> +<p>“Strangled! Surely, señores, you will not commit so +great an infamy? This is a mere mockery of a trial. I have neither +seen an indictment nor been confronted by witnesses. Call this a +sentence! I call it murder.”</p> +<p>“If you do not moderate your language, prisoner, you will +be strangled to-night instead of to-morrow. Remove him, +<em>capitan</em>“—to the officer of police. “Let +this be your warrant”—writing.</p> +<p>“Grant me at least one favor,” I asked, smothering +my indignation, and trying to speak calmly. “I have fought +and bled for Spain. Let me at least die a soldier’s death, +and allow me before I die to see a priest.”</p> +<p>“So you are a Christian!” returned the president, +almost graciously. “I thought all Englishmen were heretics. I +think señores, we may grant Señor Fortescue’s +request. Instead of being strangled, you shall be shot by a firing +party of the regiment of Cordova, and you may see a priest. We +would not have you die unshriven, and I will myself see that your +body is laid in consecrated ground. When would you like the priest +to visit you?”</p> +<p>“This evening, señor president. There will not be +much time to-morrow morning.”</p> +<p>“That is true. See to it, <em>capitan</em>. Tell them at +the <em>carcel</em> that Señor Fortescue may see a priest in +his own room this evening. <em>Adios señor!</em>”</p> +<p>And with that my three judges rose from their seats and bowed as +politely as if they were parting with an honored guest. Though this +proceeding struck me as being both ghastly and grotesque, I +returned the greeting in due form, and made my best bow. I learned +afterward that I had really been treated with exceptional +consideration, and might esteem myself fortunate in not being +condemned without trial and strangled without notice.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_X" id="Ch_X">Chapter X.</a></h3> +<h2>Salvador.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Now that I knew beyond a doubt what would be my fate unless I +could escape before morning, I became decidedly anxious as to the +outcome of my approaching interview with the ghostly comforter for +whom I had asked. It was my last chance. If it failed me, or the +man turned out to be a priest and nothing more, my hours were +numbered. The time was too short to arrange any other plan. Would +he bring with him a file and a cord? Even if he did, we could +hardly hope to cut through the bars before daylight. And, most +important consideration of all, how would Carera contrive to send +me the right man?</p> +<p>The mystery was solved more quickly than I expected.</p> +<p>After leaving the tribunal, my escort took me back by the way we +had come, the police captain, who was showing himself much more +friendly (probably because he looked on me as a good +“Christian” and a dying man), walking beside instead of +behind me; and when we were within a hundred yards or so of the +<em>carcel</em> I observed a Franciscan friar pacing slowly toward +us.</p> +<p>I felt intuitively that this was my man; and when he drew nearer +a slight movement of his eyebrows and a quick look of intelligence +told me that I was right.</p> +<p>“I have no acquaintance among the clergy of +Caracas,” I said to my conductor. “This friar will +serve my purpose as well as a regular priest.”</p> +<p>“As you like, señor. Shall I ask him to see +you?”</p> +<p>“<em>Gracias señor capitan</em>, if you +please.”</p> +<p>Whereupon the officer respectfully accosted the friar, and after +telling him that I had been condemned to die at sunrise on the +morrow, asked if he would receive my confession and give me such +religious consolation as my case required.</p> +<p>“<em>Con mucho gusto, capitan</em>,” answered the +friar. “When would the señor like me to visit +him?”</p> +<p>“At once, father. My hours are numbered, and I would fain +spend the night in meditation and prayer.”</p> +<p>“Come with us, father,” said the captain. “The +señor has the permission of the tribunal to see a priest in +his own room.”</p> +<p>So we entered the prison together, and the captain, having given +the necessary instructions to the turnkey, we were conducted to my +room.</p> +<p>“When you have done,” he said, “knock at the +door, and I will come and let you out.”</p> +<p>“Good! But you need not wait. I shall not be ready for +half an hour or more.”</p> +<p>As the key turned in the lock, the <em>soi-disant</em> friar +threw back his cowl. “Now, Señor Fortescue,” he +said, with a laugh, “I am ready to hear your +confession.”</p> +<p>“I confess that I feel as if I were in purgatory already, +and I shall be uncommonly glad if you can get me out of +it.”</p> +<p>“Well, purgatory is not the pleasantest of places by all +accounts, and I am quite willing to do whatever I can for you. By +way of beginning, take this ointment and smear your face and hands +therewith.”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>“To make you look swart and ugly, like the +zambo.”</p> +<p>“And then?”</p> +<p>“And then? When the turnkey comes back we shall overpower, +bind, and gag him—if he resists, strangle him. Then you will +put on his clothes and don his sombrero, and as the moon rises +late, and the prison is badly lighted, I have no doubt we shall run +the gauntlet of the guard without difficulty…. That is a +splendid ointment. You are almost as dark as a negro. Now for your +feet.”</p> +<p>“My feet! I see! I must go out barefoot.”</p> +<p>“Of course. Who ever heard of a zambo turnkey wearing +shoes? I will hide yours under my habit, and you can put them on +afterward.”</p> +<p>“You are a friend of Carera’s, of course?”</p> +<p>“Yes; I am Salvador Carmen, the <em>teniente</em> of +Colonel Mejia, at your service.”</p> +<p>“Salvador Carmen! A name of good omen. You are saving +me.”</p> +<p>“I will either save you or perish with you. Take this +dagger. Better to die fighting than be strangled on the +plaza.”</p> +<p>“Is this your plan or Carera’s?” I asked, as I +put the dagger in my belt.</p> +<p>“Partly his and partly mine, I think. When he heard of +your arrest, he said that it concerned our honor to effect your +rescue. The idea of throwing a stone through the window was +Carera’s; that of personating a priest was mine.”</p> +<p>“But how did Carera find out where I was? and what +assurance had you that when I asked for a priest they would bring +you?”</p> +<p>“That was easy enough. This is a small military post as +well as an occasional prison, some of the soldiers are always +drinking at the <em>pulperia</em> round the corner, and they talk +in their cups. I even know the countersign for to-night. It is +‘Baylen.’ I saw them take you to the tribunal, and as I +knew that when you asked for a priest they would call in the first +whom they saw, just to save themselves the trouble of going +farther, I took care to be hereabout in this guise as you returned. +I was fortunate enough to meet you face to face, and you were sharp +enough to detect my true character at a glance.”</p> +<p>“I am greatly indebted to you and Señor +Carera—more than I can say. You are risking your lives to +save mine.”</p> +<p>“That is nothing, my dear sir. I often risk my life twenty +times in a day. And what matters it? We are all under sentence of +death. A few years and there will be an end of us.”</p> +<p>Salvador Carmen may have been twenty-six or twenty-eight years +old. He was of middle height and athletic build, yet wiry withal, +in splendid condition, and as hard as nails. Though darker than the +average Spaniard, his short, wavy hair and powerful, clear-cut +features showed that his blood was free from negro or Indian taint. +His face bespoke a strange mixture of gentleness and resolution, +melancholy and ferocity, as if an originally fine nature had been +annealed by fiery trials, and perhaps perverted by some terrible +wrong.</p> +<p>“Yes, señor, we carry our lives in our hands in +this most unhappy country,” he continued, after a short +pause. “Three years ago I was one of a family of eight, and +no happier family could be found in the whole +<em>capitanio-general</em> of Caracas…. Of those eight, +seven are gone; I am the only one left. Four were killed in the +great earthquake. Then my father took part in the revolutionary +movement, and to save his life had to leave his home. One night he +returned in disguise to see my mother. I happened to be away at the +time; but my brother Tomas was there, and the police getting wind +of my father’s arrival, arrested both them and him. My father +was condemned as a rebel; my mother and brother were condemned for +harboring him, and all were strangled together on the plaza +there.”</p> +<p>“Good heaven! Can such things be?” I said, as much +moved by his grief as by his tale of horror.</p> +<p>“I saw them die. Oh, my God! I saw them die, and yet I +live to tell the tale!” exclaimed Carmen, in a tone of +intense sadness. “But”—fiercely—“I +have taken a terrible revenge. With my own hand have I slain more +than a hundred European Spaniards, and I have sworn to slay as many +as there were hairs on my mother’s head…. But enough +of this! The night is upon us. It is time to make ready. When the +zambo comes in, I shall seize him by the throat and threaten him +with my dagger. While I hold him you must stuff this cloth into his +mouth, take off his shirt and trousers—he has no other +garments—and put them on over your own. That done, we will +bind him with this cord, and lock him in with his own key. Are you +ready?”</p> +<p>“I am ready.”</p> +<p>Carmen knocked loudly at the door.</p> +<p>Two minutes later the door opens, and as the zambo closes it +behind him, Carmen seizes him by the throat and pushes him against +the wall.</p> +<p>“A word, a whisper, and you are a dead man!” he +hisses, sternly, at the same time drawing his dagger. “Open +your mouth, or, <em>per Dios</em>—The cloth, señor. +Now, off with your shirt and trousers.”</p> +<p>The turnkey obeys without the least attempt at resistance. The +shaking of his limbs as I help him to undress shows that he is half +frightened to death.</p> +<p>Then Carmen, still gripping the man’s throat and +threatening him with his dagger, makes him lie down, and I bind his +arms with the cord.</p> +<p>That done, I slip the man’s trousers and shirt over my +own, don his sombrero, and take his key.</p> +<p>“So far, well,” says Carmen, “if we only get +safely through the <em>patio</em> and pass the guard! Put the +sombrero over your face, imitate the zambo’s shuffling gait, +and walk carelessly by my side, as if you were conducting me to the +gate and a short way down the street. Have you your dagger! Good! +Open the door and let us go forth. One word more! If it comes to a +fight, back to back. Try to grasp the muskets with your left and +stab with your right—upward!”</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XI" id="Ch_XI">Chapter XI.</a></h3> +<h2>Out of the Lion’s Mouth.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>As the short sunset of the tropics had now merged into complete +darkness, we crossed the <em>patio</em> without being noticed; but +near the gateway several soldiers of the guard were seated round a +small table, playing at cards by the light of a flickering +lamp.</p> +<p>“Hello! Who goes there?” said one of them, looking +up. “Pablo, the turnkey, and a friar! Won’t you take a +hand, Pablo? You won a <em>real</em> from me last night; I want my +revenge.”</p> +<p>“He is going with me as far as the plaza. It is dark, and +I am very near-sighted,” put in Carmen, with ready presence +of mind. “He will be back in a few minutes, and then he will +give you your revenge, won’t you, Pablo?”</p> +<p>“<em>Si, padre, con mucho gusto</em>,” I answered, +mimicking the deep guttural of the zambo.</p> +<p>“Good! I shall expect you in a few minutes,” said +the soldier. “<em>Buene noche, padre!</em>”</p> +<p>“Good-night, my son.”</p> +<p>“Now for the sentry,” murmured Carmen; +“luckily we have the password, otherwise it might be +awkward.”</p> +<p>“We must try to slip past him.”</p> +<p>But it was not to be. As we step through the gateway into the +street, the man turns right about face and we are seen.</p> +<p>“<em>Halte! Quien vive?</em>” he cried.</p> +<p>“Friends.”</p> +<p>“Advance, friends, and give the countersign.”</p> +<p>“As you see, I am a friar. I have been shriving a +condemned prisoner. You surely do not expect me to give the +countersign!” said Carmen, going close up to him.</p> +<p>“Certainly not, <em>padre</em>. But who is that with +you?”</p> +<p>“Pablo, the turnkey.”</p> +<p>“Advance and give the countersign, Pablo.”</p> +<p>“Baylen.”</p> +<p>“Wrong; it has been changed within the last ten minutes. +You must go back and get it, friend Pablo.”</p> +<p>“It is not worth the trouble. He is only seeing me to the +end of the street,” pleaded Carmen.</p> +<p>“I shall not let him go another step without the +countersign,” returned the sentry, doggedly. “I am not +sure that I ought to let you go either, father. He has only to +ask—”</p> +<p>A sudden movement of Carmen’s arm, a gleam of steel in the +darkness, the soldier’s musket falls from his grasp, and with +a deep groan he sinks heavily on the ground.</p> +<p>“Quick, señor, or we shall be taken! Round the +corner! We must not run; that would attract attention. A sharp +walk. Good! Keep close to the wall. Two minutes more and we shall +be safe. A narrow escape! If the sentry had made you go back or +called the guard, all would have been lost.”</p> +<p>“How was it? Did you stab him?”</p> +<p>“To the heart. He has mounted guard for the last time. So +much the better. It is an enemy and a Spaniard the less.”</p> +<p>“All the same, Señor Carmen, I would rather kill my +enemies in fair fight than in cold blood.”</p> +<p>“I also; but there are occasions. As likely as not this +soldier would have been in the firing party told off to shoot you +to-morrow morning. There would not have been much fair fight in +that. And had I not killed him, we should both have been tried by +drum-head court-martial, and shot or strangled to-night. This way. +Now, I defy them to catch us.”</p> +<p>As he spoke, Carmen plunged into a heap of ruins by the wayside, +with the intricacies of which, despite the darkness, he appeared to +be quite familiar.</p> +<p>“Nobody will disturb us here,” he said at length, +pausing under the shadow of a broken wall. “These are the +ruins of the Church of Alta Gracia, which, in its fall during the +great earthquake, killed several hundred worshippers. People say +they are haunted; after dark nobody will come near them. But we +must not stay many minutes. Take off the zambo’s shirt and +trousers, and put on your shoes and stockings—there they +are—and I shall doff my cloak of religion.”</p> +<p>“What next?”</p> +<p>“We must make off with all speed and by devious +ways—though I think we have quite thrown our pursuers off the +scent—to a house in the outskirts belonging to a friend of +the cause, where we shall find horses, and start for the llanos +before the moon rises, and the hue and cry can be +raised.”</p> +<p>“What is the journey?”</p> +<p>“That depends on circumstances. Four or five days, +perhaps. <em>Vamanos!</em> Time presses.”</p> +<p>We left the ruins at the side opposite to that at which we had +entered them, and after traversing several by-streets and narrow +lanes reached the open country, and walked on rapidly till we came +to a lonesome house in a large garden.</p> +<p>Carmen went up to the door, whistled softly, and knocked +thrice.</p> +<p>“Who is there?” asked a voice from within.</p> +<p>“Salvador.”</p> +<p>On this the gate of the <em>patio</em>, wide enough to admit a +man on horseback, was thrown open, and the next moment I was in the +arms of Señor Carera.</p> +<p>“Out of the lion’s mouth!” he exclaimed, as he +kissed me on both cheeks. “I was dying of anxiety. But, thank +Heaven and the Holy Virgin, you are safe.”</p> +<p>“I have also to thank you and Señor Carmen; and I +do thank you with all my heart.”</p> +<p>“Say no more. We could not have done less. You were our +guest. You rendered us a great service. Had we let you perish +without an effort to save you, we should have been eternally +disgraced. But come in and refresh yourselves. Your stay here must +be brief, and we can talk while we eat.”</p> +<p>As we sat at table, Carmen told the story of my rescue.</p> +<p>“It was well done,” said our host, thoughtfully, +“very well done. Yet I regret you had to kill the sentry. But +for that you might have had a little sleep, and started after +midnight. As it is, you must set off forthwith and get well on the +road before the news of the escape gets noised abroad. And +everything is ready. All your things are here, Señor +Fortescue. You can select what you want for the journey and leave +the rest in my charge.”</p> +<p>“All my things here! How did you manage that, Señor +Carera?”</p> +<p>“By sending a man, whom I could trust, in the character of +a messenger from the prison with a note to the <em>posadero</em>, +as from you, asking him to deliver your baggage and receipt your +bill.”</p> +<p>“That was very good of you, Señor Carera. A +thousand thanks. How much—”</p> +<p>“How much! That is my affair. You are my guest, remember. +Your baggage is in the next room, and while you make your +preparations, I will see to the saddling of the horses.”</p> +<p>A very few minutes sufficed to put on my riding boots, get my +pistols, and make up my scanty kit. When I went outside, the horses +were waiting in the <em>patio</em>, each of them held by a black +groom. Everything was in order. A <em>cobija</em> was strapped +behind either saddle, both of which were furnished with holsters +and bags.</p> +<p>“I have had some <em>tasajo</em> (dried beef) put in the +saddle-bags, as much as will keep you going three or four +days,” said Señor Carera. “You won’t find +many hotels on the road. And you will want a sword, Mr. Fortescue. +Do me the favor to accept this as a souvenir of our friendship. It +is a fine Toledo blade, with a history. An ancestor of mine wore it +at the battle of Lepanto. It may bend but will never break, and has +an edge like a razor. I give it to you to be used against my +country’s enemies, and I am sure you will never draw it +without cause, nor sheathe it without honor.”</p> +<p>I thanked my host warmly for his timely gift, and, as I buckled +the historic weapon to my side, glanced at the horse which he had +placed at my disposal. It was a beautiful flea-bitten gray, with a +small, fiery head, arched neck, sloping shoulders, deep chest, +powerful quarters, well-bent hocks, and “clean” shapely +legs—a very model of a horse, and as it seemed, in perfect +condition.</p> +<p>“Ah, you may look at Pizarro as long as you like, +Señor Fortescue, and he is well worth looking at; but you +will never tire him,” said Carera. “What will you do if +you meet the patrol, Salvador?”</p> +<p>“Evade them if we can, charge them if we +cannot.”</p> +<p>“By all means the former, if possible, and then you may +not be pursued. And now, Señor, I trust you will not hold me +wanting in hospitality if I urge you to mount; but your lives are +in jeopardy, and there may be death in delay. Put out the lights, +men, and open the gates. <em>Adios</em>, Señor Fortescue! +<em>Adios</em>, my dear Salvador. We shall meet again in happier +times. God guard you, and bring you safe to your journey’s +end.”</p> +<p>And then we rode forth into the night.</p> +<p>“We had better take to the open country at once, and +strike the road about a few miles farther on. It is rather risky, +for we shall have to get over several rifts made by the earthquake +and cross a stream with high banks. But if we take to the road +straightway, we are almost sure to meet a patrol. We may meet one +in any case; but the farther from the city the encounter takes +place, the greater will be our chance of getting +through.”</p> +<p>“You know best. Lead on, and I will follow. Are these +rifts you speak of wide?”</p> +<p>“They are easily jumpable by daylight; but how we shall do +them in the dark, I don’t know. However, these horses are as +nimble as cats, and almost as keen-sighted. I think, if we leave it +to them, they will carry us safely over. The sky is a little +clearer, too, and that will count in our favor. This +way!”</p> +<p>We sped on as swiftly and silently as the spectre horseman of +the story, for Venezuelan horses being unshod and their favorite +pace a gliding run (much less fatiguing for horse and rider than +the high trot of Europe) they move as noiselessly over grass as a +man in slippers.</p> +<p>“Look out!” cried Carmen, reining in his horse. +“We are not far from the first grip. Don’t you see +something like a black streak running across the grass? That is +it.”</p> +<p>“How wide, do you suppose?”</p> +<p>“Eight or ten feet. Don’t try to guide your horse. +He won’t refuse. Let him have his head and take it in his own +way. Go first; my horse likes a lead.”</p> +<p>Pizarro went to the edge of the rift, stretched out his head as +if to measure the distance, and then, springing over as lightly as +a deer, landed safely on the other side. The next moment Carmen was +with me. After two or three more grips (all of unknown depth, and +one smelling strongly of sulphur) had been surmounted in the same +way, we came to the stream. The bank was so steep and slippery that +the horses had to slide down it on their haunches (after the manner +of South American horses). But having got in, we had to get out. +This proved no easy task, and it was only after we had floundered +in the brook for twenty minutes or more, that Carmen found a place +where he thought it might be possible to make our exit. And such a +place! We were forced to dismount, climb up almost on our hands and +knees, and let the horses scramble after us as they best could.</p> +<p>“That is the last of our difficulties,” said Carmen, +as we got into our saddles. “In ten minutes we strike the +road, and then we shall have a free course for several +hours.”</p> +<p>“How about the patrols? Do you think we have given them +the slip?”</p> +<p>“I do. They don’t often come as far as +this.”</p> +<p>We reached the road at a point where it was level with the +fields; and a few miles farther on entered a defile, bounded on the +left by a deep ravine, on the right by a rocky height.</p> +<p>And then there occurred a startling phenomenon. As the moon rose +above the Silla of Caracas, the entire savanna below us seemed to +take fire, streams as of lava began to run up (not down) the sides +of the hills, throwing a lurid glare over the sleeping city, and +bringing into strong relief the rugged mountains which walled in +the plain.</p> +<p>“Good heavens, what is that!” I exclaimed.</p> +<p>“It is the time of drought, and the peons are firing the +grass to improve the land,” said Carmen. “I wish they +had not done it just now, though. However, it is, perhaps, quite as +well. If the light makes us more visible to others, it also makes +others more visible to us. Hark! What is that? Did you not hear +something?”</p> +<p>“I did. The neighing of a horse. Halt! Let us +listen.”</p> +<p>“The neighing of a horse and something more.”</p> +<p>“Men’s voices and the rattle of accoutrements. The +patrol, after all. What shall we do? To turn back would be fatal. +The ravine is too deep to descend. Climbing those rocks is out of +the question. There is but one alternative—we must charge +right through them.”</p> +<p>“How many men does a patrol generally consist +of?”</p> +<p>“Sometimes two, sometimes four.”</p> +<p>“May it not be a squadron on the march?”</p> +<p>“It may. No matter. We must charge them, all the same. +Better die sword in hand than be garroted on the plaza. We have one +great advantage. We shall take these fellows by surprise. Let us +wait here in the shade, and the moment they round that corner, go +at them, full gallop.”</p> +<p>The words were scarcely spoken, when two dragoons came in sight, +then two more.</p> +<p>“Four!” murmured Carmen. “The odds are not too +great. We shall do it. Are you ready? Now!”</p> +<p>The dragoons, surprised by our sudden appearance, pulled up and +stood stock-still, as if doubtful whether our intentions were +hostile or friendly; and we were at them almost before they had +drawn their swords.</p> +<p>As I charged the foremost Spaniard, his horse swerved from the +road, and rolled with his rider into the ravine. The second, +profiting by his comrade’s disaster, gave us the slip and +galloped toward Caracas. This left us face to face with the other +two, and in little more than as many minutes I had run my man +through, and Carmen had hurled his to the ground with a cleft +skull.</p> +<p>“I thought we should do it,” he said as he sheathed +his sword. “But before we ride on let us see who the fellows +are, for, ’pon my soul, they have not the looks of a patrol +from Caracas.”</p> +<p>As he spoke, Carmen dismounted and closely examined the +prostrate men’s facings.</p> +<p>“<em>Caramba!</em> They belong to the regiment of +Irun.”</p> +<p>“I remember them. They were in Murillo’s <em>corp +d’armée</em> at Vittoria.”</p> +<p>“I wish they were at Vittoria now. Their headquarters are +at La Victoria! Worse luck!”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>“Because there may be more of them. You suggested just now +the possibility of a squadron. How if we meet a +regiment?”</p> +<p>“We should be in rather a bad scrape.”</p> +<p>“We are in a bad scrape, <em>amigo mio</em>. Unless, I am +greatly mistaken the regiment of Irun, or, at any rate, a squadron +of it is on the march hitherward. If they started at sunrise and +rested during the heat of the day, this is about the time the +advance-guard would be here. Having no enemy to fear in these +parts, they would naturally break up into small detachments; there +has been no rain for weeks, and the dust raised by a large body of +horsemen is simply stifling. However, we may as well go forward to +certain death as go back to it. Besides, I hate going back in any +circumstances. And we have just one chance. We must hurry on and +ride for our lives.”</p> +<p>“I don’t quite see that. We shall meet them all the +sooner.”</p> +<p>Carmen made some reply which I failed to catch, and as the way +was rough and Pizarro required all my attention, I did not repeat +the question.</p> +<p>We passed rapidly up the brow, and when we reached more even +ground, put our horses to the gallop and went on, up hill and down +dale, until Carmen, uttering an exclamation, pulled his horse into +a walk.</p> +<p>“I think we can get down here,” he said.</p> +<p>We had reached a place where, although the mountain to our right +was still precipitous, the ravine seemed narrower and the sides +less steep.</p> +<p>“I think we can,” repeated Carmen. “At any +rate, we must try.”</p> +<p>And with that he dismounted, and leading his horse to the brink +of the ravine, incontinently disappeared.</p> +<p>“Come on! It will do!” he cried, dragging his horse +after him.</p> +<p>I followed with Pizarro, who missing his footing landed on his +head. As for myself, I rolled from top to bottom, the descent being +much steeper than I had expected.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XII" id="Ch_XII">Chapter XII.</a></h3> +<h2>Between Two Fires.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>The ravine was filled with shrubs and trees, through which we +partly forced, partly threaded our way, until we reached a spot +where we were invisible from the road.</p> +<p>“Now off with your <em>cobija</em> and throw it over your +horse’s head,” said Carmen. “If they don’t +hear they won’t neigh, and a single neigh might be our +ruin.”</p> +<p>“You mean to stay here until the troops have gone +past?”</p> +<p>“Exactly, I knew there was a good hiding-place hereabout, +and that if we reached it before the troops came up we should be +safe. If there be any more of them they will pass us in a few +minutes. Now, if you will hitch Pizarro to that tree—oh, you +have done so already. Good! Well, let us return to the road and +watch. We can hide in the grass, or behind the bushes.”</p> +<p>We returned accordingly, and choosing a place where we could see +without being seen, we lay down and listened, exchanging now and +then a whispered remark.</p> +<p>“Hist!” said Carmen, presently, putting his ear to +the ground. He had been so long on the war-path and lived so much +in the open air, that his senses were almost as acute as those of a +wild animal.</p> +<p>“They are coming!”</p> +<p>Soon the hum of voices, the neighing of steeds, and the clang of +steel fell on my ear, and peering between the branches I could see +a group of shadows moving toward us. Then the shadows, taking form +and substance, became six horsemen. They passed within a few feet +of our hiding-place. We heard their talk, saw their faces in the +moonlight, and Carmen whispered that he could distinguish the +facings of their uniforms.</p> +<p>“It is as I feared,” he muttered, “the entire +regiment of Irun, shifting their quarters to Caracas. We are +prisoners here for an hour or two. Well, it is perhaps better to +have them behind than before us.”</p> +<p>“What will happen when they find the bodies of the two +troopers?”</p> +<p>“That is precisely the question I am asking myself. But +not having met us they will naturally conclude that we have gone on +toward Caracas.”</p> +<p>“Unless they are differently informed by the man who +escaped us.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think he would be in any hurry to turn +back. He went off at a devil of a pace.”</p> +<p>“He might turn back for all that, when he recovered from +his scare. He could not help seeing that we were only two, and if +he informs the others they will know of a surety that we are hiding +in the ravine.”</p> +<p>“And then there would be a hunt. However, at the speed +they are riding it will take them an hour or more to reach the +scene of our skirmish, and then there is coming back. Everything +depends on how soon the last of them go by. If we have only a few +minutes start they will never overtake us, and once on the other +side of Los Teycos we shall be safe both from discovery and +pursuit. European cavalry are of no use in a Venezuelan forest; and +I don’t think these Irun fellows have any +blood-hounds.”</p> +<p>“Blood-hounds! You surely don’t mean to say that the +Spaniards use blood-hounds?”</p> +<p>“I mean nothing else. General Griscelli, who holds the +chief command in the district of San Felipe, keeps a pack of +blood-hounds, which he got from Cuba. But, though a Spanish +general, Griscelli is not a Spaniard born. He is either a Corsican +or an Italian. I believe he was originally in the French army, and +when Dupont surrendered at Baylen he went over to the other side, +and accepted a commission from the King of Spain.”</p> +<p>“Not a very good record, that.”</p> +<p>“And he is not a good man. He outvies even the Spaniards +in cruelty. A very able general, though. He has given us a deal of +trouble. Down with your head! Here comes some more.”</p> +<p>A whole troop this time. They pass in a cloud of dust. After a +short interval another detachment sweeps by; then another and +another.</p> +<p>“<em>Gracias a Dios!</em> they are putting on more speed. +At this rate we shall soon be at liberty. But, <em>caramba</em>, +how they might have been trapped, Señor Fortescue! A few men +on that height hurling down rocks, the defile lined with +sharp-shooters, half a hundred of Mejia’s <em>llaneros</em> +to cut off their retreat, and the regiment of Irun could be +destroyed to a man.”</p> +<p>“Or taken prisoners.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think there would be many prisoners,” +said Carmen, grimly. “These must almost be the last, I +think—they are. See! Here come the tag-rag and +bobtail.”</p> +<p>The tag-rag and bob-tail consisted of a string of loaded mules +with their <em>arrieros</em>, a dozen women riding mules, and as +many men on foot.</p> +<p>“Let us get out of this hole while we may, and before any +of them come back. Once on the road and mounted, we shall at least +be able to fight; but down here—”</p> +<p>“All the same, this hole has served our turn well. +However, I quite agree with you that the best thing we can do is to +get out of it quickly.”</p> +<p>This was more easily said than done. It was like climbing up a +precipice. Pizarro slipped back three times. Carmen’s mare +did no better. In the end we had to dismount, fasten two lariats to +each saddle, and haul while the horses scrambled. A little help +goes a long way in such circumstances.</p> +<p>All this both made noise and caused delay, and it was with a +decided sense of relief that we found ourselves once more in the +saddle and <em>en route</em>.</p> +<p>“We have lost more time than I reckoned on,” said +Carmen, as we galloped through the pass. “If any of the +dragoons had turned back—However, they did not, and, as our +horses are both fresher than theirs and carry less weight, they +will have no chance of overtaking us if they do; and, as the whole +of the regiment has gone on, there is no chance of meeting any more +of them—<em>Caramba!</em> Halt!”</p> +<p>“What is it?” I asked, pulling up short.</p> +<p>“I spoke too soon. More are coming. Don’t you hear +them?”</p> +<p>“Yes; and I see shadows in the distance.”</p> +<p>“The shadows are soldiers, and we shall have to charge +them whether they be few or many, <em>amigo mio</em>; so say your +prayers and draw your Toledo. But first let us shake hands, we may +never—”</p> +<p>“I am quite ready to charge by your side, Carmen; but +would it not be better, think you, to try what a little strategy +will do?”</p> +<p>“With all my heart, if you can suggest anything feasible. +I like a fight immensely—when the odds are not too +great—and I hope to die fighting. All the same, I have no +very strong desire to die at this particular moment.”</p> +<p>“Neither have I. So let us go on like peaceable +travellers, and the chances are that these men, taking for granted +that the others have let us pass, will not meddle with us. If they +do, we must make the best fight we can.”</p> +<p>“A happy thought! Let us act on it. If they ask any +questions I will answer. Your English accent might excite +suspicion.”</p> +<p>The party before us consisted of nine horsemen, several of whom +appeared to be officers.</p> +<p>“<em>Buene noche, señores</em>,” said Carmen, +so soon as we were within speaking distance.</p> +<p>“<em>Buene noche, señores</em>. You have met the +troops, of course. How far are they ahead?” asked one of the +officers.</p> +<p>“The main body are quite a league ahead by this time. The +pack-mules and <em>arrieros</em> passed us about fifteen minutes +ago.”</p> +<p>“<em>Gracias!</em> Who are you, and whither may you be +wending, señores?”</p> +<p>“I am Sancho Mencar, at your service, <em>señor +coronel</em>, a Government messenger, carrying despatches to +General Salazar, at La Victoria. My companion is Señor +Tesco, a merchant, who is journeying to the same place on +business.”</p> +<p>“Good! you can go on. You will meet two troopers who are +bringing on a prisoner. Do me the favor to tell them to make +haste.”</p> +<p>“Certainly, <em>señor coronel. Adios, +señores</em>.”</p> +<p>“<em>Adio señores.</em>”</p> +<p>And with that we rode on our respective ways.</p> +<p>“Two troopers and prisoner,” said Carmen, +thoughtfully.</p> +<p>“So there are more of them, after all! How many, I wonder? +If this prisoner be a patriot we must rescue him, señor +Fortescue.”</p> +<p>“With all my heart—if we can.”</p> +<p>“Only two troopers! You and I are a match for +six.”</p> +<p>“Possibly. But we don’t know that the two are not +followed by a score! There seems to be no end of them.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think so. If there were the colonel would +have asked us to tell them also to hurry up. But we shall soon find +out. When we meet the fellows we will speak them fair and ask a few +questions.”</p> +<p>Ten minutes later we met them.</p> +<p>“<em>Buene noche, señores!</em>” said Carmen, +riding forward. “We bring a message from the colonel. He bids +you make haste.”</p> +<p>“All very fine. But how can we make haste when we are +hampered by this rascal? I should like to blow his brains +out.”</p> +<p>“This rascal” was the prisoner, a big powerful +fellow who seemed to be either a zambo or a negro. His arms were +bound to his side, and he walked between the troopers, to whose +saddles he was fastened by two stout cords.</p> +<p>“Why don’t you blow his brains out?”</p> +<p>“Because we should get into trouble. He is the +colonel’s slave, and therefore valuable property. We have +tried dragging him along; but the villain throws himself down, and +might get a limb broken, so all we can do is prod him occasionally +with the points of our sabres; but he does not seem to mind us in +the least. We have tried swearing; we might as well whistle. Make +haste, indeed!”</p> +<p>“A very hard case, I am sure. I sympathize with you, +señores. Is the man a runaway that you have to take such +care of him?”</p> +<p>“That is just it. He ran away and rambled for months in +the forest; and if he had not stolen back to La Victoria and been +betrayed by a woman, he would never have been caught. After that, +the colonel would not trust him at large; but he thinks that at +Caracas he will have him safe. And now, señores, with your +leave we must go on.”</p> +<p>“Ah! You are the last, I suppose?”</p> +<p>“We are; curse it! The main body must be a league ahead by +this time, and we shall not reach Caracas for hours. +<em>Adios!</em>”</p> +<p>“Let us rescue the poor devil!” I whispered to +Carmen.</p> +<p>“By all means. One moment, señores; I beg your +pardon—now, Fortescue!”</p> +<p>And with that we placed our horses across the road, whipped out +our pistols and pointed them at the troopers’ heads, to their +owners’ unutterable surprise.</p> +<p>“We are sorry to inconvenience you, señores,” +said my companion, politely; “but we are going to release +this slave, and we have need of your horses. Unbuckle your swords, +throw them on the ground, and dismount. No hesitation, or you are +dead men! Shall we treat them as they proposed to treat the slave, +Señor Fortescue? Blow out their brains? It will be safer, +and save us a deal of trouble.”</p> +<p>“No! That would be murder. Let them go. They can do no +harm. It is impossible for them to overtake the others on +foot.”</p> +<p>Meanwhile the soldiers, having the fear of being shot before +them, had dismounted and laid down their weapons.</p> +<p>“Go!” said Carmen, pointing northward, and they +went.</p> +<p>“Your name?” (to the prisoner whose bonds I was +cutting with my sword).</p> +<p>“Here they call me José. In my own country I was +called Gahra—”</p> +<p>“Let it be Gahra, then. It is less common than +José. Every other peon in the country is called José. +You are a native of Africa?”</p> +<p>“<em>Si, señor.</em>”</p> +<p>“How came you hither?”</p> +<p>“I was taken to Cuba in a slave-ship, brought to this +country by General Salazar, and sold by him to Colonel +Canimo.”</p> +<p>“You have no great love for the Spaniards, I +suppose?”</p> +<p>Gahra pointed to his arms which had been chafed by the rope till +they were raw, and showed us his back which bore the marks of +recent stripes.</p> +<p>“Can you fight?”</p> +<p>“Against the Spaniards? Only give me the chance, and you +shall see,” answered the negro in a voice of intense +hate.</p> +<p>“Come with us, and you shall have many chances. Mount one +of those horses and lead the other.”</p> +<p>Gahra mounted, and we moved on.</p> +<p>We were now at the beginning of a stiff ascent. The road, which +though undulating had risen almost continuously since we left +Caracas, was bordered with richly colored flowers and shrubs, and +bounded on either side by deep forests. Night was made glorious by +the great tropical moon, which shone resplendent under a purple sky +gilding the tree-tops and lighting us on our way. Owing to the +nature of the ground we could not see far before us, but the +backward view, with its wood-crowned heights, deep ravines, and +sombre mountains looming in the distance, was fairy-like and +fantastic, and the higher we rose the more extensive it became.</p> +<p>“Is this a long hill?” I asked Carmen.</p> +<p>“Very. An affair of half an hour, at least, at this speed; +and we cannot go faster,” he answered, as he turned half +round in his saddle.</p> +<p>“Why are you looking backward?”</p> +<p>“To see whether we are followed. We lost much time in the +<em>quebrado</em>, and we have lost more since. Have you good eyes, +Gahara? Born Africans generally have.”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. My name, Gahra Dahra, signifies Dahra, the keen +sighted!”</p> +<p>“I am glad to hear it. Be good enough to look round +occasionally, and if you see anything let us know.”</p> +<p>We had nearly reached the summit of the rise when the negro +uttered an exclamation and turned his horse completely round.</p> +<p>“What is it?” asked Carmen and myself, following his +example.</p> +<p>“I see figures on the brow of yonder hill.”</p> +<p>“You see more than I can, and I have not bad eyes,” +said Carmen, looking intently. “What are they like, those +figures?”</p> +<p>“That I cannot make out yet. They are many; they move; and +every minute they grow bigger! That is all I can tell.”</p> +<p>“It is quite enough. The bodies of the two troopers have +been found, the alarm has been given, and we are pursued. But they +won’t overtake us. They have that hill to descend, this to +mount; and our horses are better than theirs.”</p> +<p>“Are you going far, señor?” inquired +Gahra.</p> +<p>“To the llanos.”</p> +<p>“By Los Teycos?”</p> +<p>“Yes. We shall easily steal through Los Teycos, and I know +of a place in the forest beyond, where we can hide during the +day.”</p> +<p>“Pardon me for venturing to contradict you, señor; +but I fear you will not find it very easy to steal through Los +Teycos. For three days it has been held by a company of infantry +and all the outlets are strictly guarded. No civilian unfurnished +with a safe conduct from the captain-general is allowed to +pass.”</p> +<p>“<em>Caramba!</em> We are between two fires, it seems. +Well, we must make a dash for it. The sentries cannot stop us, and +we can gallop through before they turn out the guard.”</p> +<p>“The horses will be very tired by that time, señor, +and the troopers can get fresh mounts at Los Teycos. But I know a +way—”</p> +<p>“The Indian trail! Do you know the Indian +trail?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. I know the Indian trail, and I can take you to +a place in the forest where there is grass and water and game, and +we shall be safe from pursuit as long as we like to +stay.”</p> +<p>“How far off?”</p> +<p>“About two leagues.”</p> +<p>“Good. Lead on in heaven’s name. You are a treasure, +Gahra Dahra. In rescuing you from those ruffianly Spaniards we did +ourselves, as well as you, a good turn.”</p> +<p>Our pursuers, who numbered a full score, could now be distinctly +seen, but in a few minutes we lost sight of them. After a sharp +ride of half an hour, the negro called a halt.</p> +<p>“This is the place. Here we turn off,” he said.</p> +<p>“Here! I see nothing but the almost dry bed of a +torrent.”</p> +<p>“So much the better. We shall make no footmarks,” +said Carmen. “Go on, Gahra. But first of all turn that led +horse adrift. Are you sure this place you speak of is unknown to +the Spaniards?”</p> +<p>“Quite. It is known only to a few wandering Indians and +fugitive slaves. We can stay here till sunrise. It is impossible to +follow the Indian trail by night, even with such a moon as +this.”</p> +<p>After we had partly ridden, partly walked (for we were several +times compelled to dismount) about a mile along the bed of the +stream, which was hemmed in between impenetrable walls of tall +trees and dense undergrowth, Gahra, who was leading, called out: +“This way!” and vanished into what looked like a hole, +but proved to be a cleft in the bank so overhung by vegetation as +to be well-nigh invisible.</p> +<p>It was the entrance to a passage barely wide enough to admit a +horse and his rider, yet as light as a star-gemmed mid-night, for +the leafy vault above us was radiant with fireflies, gleaming like +diamonds in the dark hair of a fair woman.</p> +<p>But even with this help it was extremely difficult to force our +way through the tangled undergrowth, which we had several times to +attack, sword in hand, and none of us were sorry when Gahra +announced that we had reached the end.</p> +<p>“<em>Por todos los santos!</em> But this is +fairyland!” exclaimed Carmen, who was just before me. +“I never saw anything so beautiful.”</p> +<p>He might well say so. We were on the shore of a mountain-tarn, +into whose clear depths the crescent moon, looking calmly down, saw +its image reflected as in a silver mirror. Lilies floated on its +waters, ferns and flowering shrubs bent over them, the air was +fragrant with sweet smells, and all around uprose giant trees with +stems as round and smooth as the granite columns of a great +cathedral; and, as it seemed in that dim religious light, high +enough to support the dome of heaven.</p> +<p>I was so lost in admiration of this marvellous scene that my +companions had unsaddled and were leading their horses down to the +water before I thought of dismounting from mine.</p> +<p>Apart from the beauty of the spot, we could have found none more +suitable for a bivouac! We were in safety and our horses in clover, +and, tethering them with the lariats, we left them to graze. Gahra +gathered leaves and twigs and kindled a fire, for the air at that +height was fresh, and we were lightly clad. We cooked our +<em>tasajo</em> on the embers, and after smoking the calumet of +peace, rolled ourselves in our <em>cobijas</em>, laid our heads on +our saddles, and slept the sleep of the just.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XIII" id="Ch_XIII">Chapter XIII.</a></h3> +<h2>On the Llanos.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Only a moment ago the land had been folded in the mantle of +darkness. Now, a flaming eye rises from the ground at some +immeasurable distance, like an outburst of volcanic fire. It grows +apace, chasing away the night and casting a ruddy glow on, as it +seems, a vast and waveless sea, as still as the painted ocean of +the poem, as silent as death, a sea without ships and without life, +mournful and illimitable, and as awe-inspiring and impressive as +the Andes or the Alps.</p> +<p>So complete is the illusion that did I not know we were on the +verge of the llanos I should be tempted to believe that +supernatural agency had transported us while we slept to the coasts +of the Caribbean Sea or the yet more distant shores of the Pacific +Ocean.</p> +<p>Six days are gone by since we left our bivouac by the +mountain-tarn: three we have wandered in the woods under the +guidance of Gahra, three sought Mejia and his guerillas, who, being +always on the move, are hard to find. Last night we reached the +range of hills which form, as it were, the northern coast-line of +the vast series of savannas which stretch from the tropics to the +Straits of Magellan; and it is now a question whether we shall +descend to the llanos or continue our search in the sierra.</p> +<p>“It was there I left him,” said Carmen, pointing to +a <em>quebrada</em> some ten miles away.</p> +<p>“Where we were yesterday?”</p> +<p>“Yes; and he said he would be either there or hereabout +when I returned, and I am quite up to time. But Mejia takes sudden +resolves sometimes. He may have gone to beat up Griselli’s +quarters at San Felipe, or be making a dash across the llanos in +the hope of surprising the fortified post of Tres +Cruces.”</p> +<p>“What shall we do then; wait here until he comes +back?”</p> +<p>“Or ride out on the llanos in the direction of Tres +Cruces. If we don’t meet Mejia and his people we may hear +something of them.”</p> +<p>“I am for the llanos.”</p> +<p>“Very well. We will go thither. But we shall have to be +very circumspect. There are loyalist as well as patriot guerillas +roaming about. They say that Morales has collected a force of three +or four thousand, mostly Indios, and they are all so much alike +that unless you get pretty close it is impossible to distinguish +patriots from loyalists.”</p> +<p>“Well, there is room to run if we cannot fight.”</p> +<p>“Oh, plenty of room,” laughed Carmen. “But as +for fighting—loyalist guerillas are not quite the bravest of +the brave, yet I don’t think we three are quite a match for +fifty of them, and we are not likely to meet fewer, if we meet any. +But let us adventure by all means. Our horses are fresh, and we can +either return to the sierra or spend the night on the llanos, as +may be most expedient.”</p> +<p>Ten minutes later we were mounted, and an hour’s easy +riding brought us to the plain. It was as pathless as the ocean, +yet Carmen, guided by the sun, went on as confidently as if he had +been following a beaten track. The grass was brown and the soil +yellow; particles of yellow dust floated in the air; the few trees +we passed were covered with it, and we and our horses were soon in +a like condition. Nothing altered as we advanced; sky and earth +were ever the same; the only thing that moved was a cloud, sailing +slowly between us and the sun, and when Carmen called a halt on the +bank of a nearly dried-up stream, it required an effort to realize +that since we left our bivouac in the hills we had ridden twenty +miles in a direct line. Hard by was a deserted <em>hatto</em>, or +cattle-keeper’s hut, where we rested while our horses +grazed.</p> +<p>“No sign of Mejia yet,” observed Carmen, as he +lighted his cigar with a burning-glass. “Shall we go on +toward Tres Cruces, or return to our old camping-ground in the +hills?”</p> +<p>“I am for going on.”</p> +<p>“So am I. But we must keep a sharp lookout. We shall be on +dangerous ground after we have crossed the Tio.”</p> +<p>“Where is the Tio?”</p> +<p>“There!” (pointing to the attenuated stream near +us).</p> +<p>“That! I thought the Tio was a river.”</p> +<p>“So it is, and a big one in the rainy season, as you may +have an opportunity of seeing. I wish we could hear something of +Mejia. But there is nobody of whom we can inquire. The country is +deserted; the herdsmen have all gone south, to keep out of the way +of guerillas and brigands, all of whom look on cattle as common +property.”</p> +<p>“Somebody comes!” said Gahra, who was always on the +lookout.</p> +<p>“How many?” exclaimed Carmen, springing to his +feet.</p> +<p>“Only one.”</p> +<p>“Keep out of sight till he draws near, else he may sheer +off; and I should like to have a speech of him. He may be able to +tell us something.”</p> +<p>The stranger came unconcernedly on, and as he stopped in the +middle of the river to let his horse drink, we had a good look at +him. He was well mounted, carried a long spear and a +<em>macheto</em> (a broad, sword-like knife, equally useful for +slitting windpipes and felling trees), and wore a broad-brimmed +hat, shirt, trousers, and a pair of spurs (strapped to his naked +feet).</p> +<p>As he resumed his journey across the river, we all stepped out +of the <em>hatto</em> and gave him the traditional greeting, +“<em>Buenas dias, señor.</em>”</p> +<p>The man, looking up in alarm, showed a decided disposition to +make off, but Carmen spoke him kindly, offered him a cigar, and +said that all we wanted was a little information. We were peaceful +travellers, and would much like to know whether the country beyond +the Tio was free from guerillas.</p> +<p>The stranger eyed us suspiciously, and then, after a +moment’s hesitation, said that he had heard that Mejia was +“on the war-path.”</p> +<p>“Where?” asked Carmen.</p> +<p>“They say he was at Tres Cruces three days ago; and there +has been fighting.”</p> +<p>“And are any of Morale’s people also on the +war-path?”</p> +<p>“That is more than I can tell you, señores. It is +very likely; but as you are peaceful travellers, I am sure no one +will molest you. <em>Adoiso, señores.</em>”</p> +<p>And with that the man gave his horse a sudden dig with his +spurs, and went off at a gallop.</p> +<p>“What a discourteous beggar he is!” exclaimed +Carmen, angrily. “If it would not take too much out of my +mare I would ride after him and give him a lesson in +politeness.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think he was intentionally uncivil. He +seemed afraid.”</p> +<p>“Evidently. He did not know what we were, and feared to +commit himself. However, we have learned something. We are on +Mejia’s track. He was at Tres Cruces three days since, and if +we push on we may fall in with him before sunset, or, at any rate, +to-morrow morning.”</p> +<p>“Is it not possible that this man may have been purposely +deceiving us, or be himself misinformed?” I asked.</p> +<p>“Quite. But as we had already decided to go on it does not +matter a great deal whether he is right or wrong. I think, +though, he knew more about the others than he cared to tell. All +the more reason for keeping a sharp lookout and riding +slowly.”</p> +<p>“So as to save our horses?”</p> +<p>“Exactly. We may have to ride for our lives before the sun +goes down. And now let us mount and march.”</p> +<p>Our course was almost due west, and the sun being now a little +past the zenith, its ardent rays—which shone right in our +faces—together with the reverberations from the ground, made +the heat almost insupportable. The stirrup-irons burned our feet; +speech became an effort; we sat in our saddles, perspiring and +silent; our horses, drooping their heads, settled into a listless +and languid walk. The glare was so trying that I closed my eyes and +let Pizarro go as he would. Open them when I might, the outlook was +always the same, the same yellow earth and blue sky, the same +lifeless, interminable plain, the same solitary sombrero palms +dotting the distant horizon.</p> +<p>This went on for an hour or two, and I think I must have fallen +into a doze, for when, roused by a shout from Gahra, I once more +opened my eyes the sun was lower and the heat less intense.</p> +<p>“What is it,” asked Carmen, who, like myself, had +been half asleep. “I see nothing.”</p> +<p>“A cloud of dust that moves—there!” +(pointing).</p> +<p>“So it is,” shading his eyes and looking again. +“Coming this way, too. Behind that cloud is a body of +horsemen. Be they friends or enemies—Mejia and his people or +loyalist guerillas?”</p> +<p>“That is more than I can say, señor. Mejia, I +hope.”</p> +<p>“I also. But hope is not certainty, and until we can make +sure we had better hedge away toward the north, so as to be nearer +the hills in case we have to run for it.”</p> +<p>“You think we had better make for the hills in that +case?” I asked.</p> +<p>“Decidedly. Mejia is sure to return thither, and +Morale’s men are much less likely to follow us far in that +direction than south or east.”</p> +<p>So, still riding leisurely, we diverged a little to the right, +keeping the cloud-veiled horsemen to our left. By this measure we +should (if they proved to be enemies) prevent them from getting +between us and the hills, and thereby cutting off our best line of +retreat.</p> +<p>Meanwhile the cloud grew bigger. Before long we could +distinguish those whom it had hidden, without, however, being able +to decide whether they were friends or foes.</p> +<p>Carmen thought they numbered at least two hundred, and there +might be more behind. But who they were he could, as yet, form no +idea.</p> +<p>The nearer we approached them the greater became our excitement +and surprise. A few minutes and we should either be riding for our +lives or surrounded by friends. We looked to the priming of our +pistols, tightened our belts and our horses’ girths, wiped +the sweat and dust from our faces, and, while hoping for the best, +prepared for the worst.</p> +<p>“They see us!” exclaimed Carmen. “I cannot +quite make them out, though. I fear…. But let us ride +quietly on. The secret will soon be revealed.”</p> +<p>A dozen horsemen had detached themselves from the main body with +the intention, as might appear, of intercepting our retreat in +every direction. Four went south, four north, and four moved slowly +round to our rear.</p> +<p>“Had we not better push on?” I asked. “This +looks very like a hostile demonstration.”</p> +<p>“So it does. But we must find out—And there is no +hurry. We shall only have the four who are coming this way to deal +with, the others are out of the running. All the same, we may as +well draw a little farther to the right, so as to give them a +longer gallop and get them as far from the main body as may +be.”</p> +<p>The four were presently near enough to be distinctly seen.</p> +<p>“Enemies! <em>Vamonos!</em>” cried Carmen, after he +had scanned their faces. “But not too fast. If they think we +are afraid and our horses tired they will follow us without waiting +for the others, and perhaps give us an opportunity of teaching them +better manners. Your horse is the fleetest, señor Fortescue. +You had better, perhaps, ride last.”</p> +<p>On this hint I acted; and when the four guerillas saw that I was +lagging behind they redoubled their efforts to overtake me, but +whenever they drew nearer than I liked, I let Pizarro out, thereby +keeping their horses, which were none too fresh, continually on the +stretch. The others were too far in the rear to cause us concern. +We had tested the speed of their horses and knew that we could +leave them whenever we liked.</p> +<p>After we had gone thus about a couple of miles Carmen slackened +speed so as to let me come up with him and Gahra.</p> +<p>“We have five minutes to spare,” he said. +“Shall we stop them?”</p> +<p>I nodded assent, whereupon we checked our horses, and wheeling +around, looked our pursuers in the face. This brought them up +short, and I thought they were going to turn tail, but after a +moment’s hesitation they lowered their lances and came on +albeit at no great speed, receiving as they did so a point-blank +volley from our pistols, which emptied one of their saddles. Then +we drew our swords and charged, but before we could get to close +quarters the three men sheered off to the right and left, leaving +their wounded comrade to his fate. It did not suit our purpose to +follow them, and we were about to go on, when we noticed that the +other guerillas, who a few minutes previously were riding hotly +after us, had ceased their pursuit, and were looking round in +seeming perplexity. The main body had, moreover, come to a halt, +and were closing up and facing the other way. Something had +happened. What could it be?</p> +<p>“Another cloud of dust,” said Gahra, pointing to the +north-west.</p> +<p>So there was, and moving rapidly. Had our attention been less +taken up with the guerillas this new portent would not so long have +escaped us.</p> +<p>“Mejia! I’ll wager ten thousand piasters that behind +that cloud are Mejia and his braves,” exclaimed Carmen, +excitedly. <em>Hijo de Dios!</em> Won’t they make mince-meat +of the Spaniard? How I wish I were with them! Shall we go back +Señor Fortescue?”</p> +<p>“If you think—”</p> +<p>“Think! I am sure. I can see the gleam of their spears +through the dust. By all means, let us join them. The Spaniards +have too much on their hands just now to heed us. But I must have a +spear.”</p> +<p>And with that Carmen slipped from his horse and picked up the +lance of the fallen guerilla.</p> +<p>“Do you prefer a spear to a sword?” I asked, as we +rode on.</p> +<p>“I like both, but in a charge on the llanos I prefer a +spear decidedly. Yet I dare say you will do better with the weapon +to which you have been most accustomed. If you ward off or evade +the first thrust and get to your opponent’s left rear you +will have him at your mercy. Our <em>llaneros</em> are indifferent +swordsmen; but once turn your back and you are doomed. Hurrah! +There is Mejia, leading his fellows on. Don’t you see him? +The tall man on the big horse. Forward, señors! We may be in +time for the encounter even yet.”</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XIV" id="Ch_XIV">Chapter XIV.</a></h3> +<h2>Caught.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>A smart gallop of a few minutes brought us near enough to see +what was going on, though as we had to make a considerable +<em>détour</em> in order to avoid the Spaniards, we were +just too late for the charge, greatly to Carmen’s +disappointment.</p> +<p>In numbers the two sides were pretty equal, the strength of each +being about a thousand men. Their tactics were rather those of +Indian braves than regular troops. The patriots were, however, both +better led and better disciplined than their opponents, and fought +with a courage and a resolution that on their native plains would +have made them formidable foes for the “crackest” of +European cavalry.</p> +<p>The encounter took place when we were within a few hundred yards +of Mejia’s left flank. It was really a charge in line, albeit +a very broken line, every man riding as hard as he could and +fighting for his own land. All were armed with spears, the longest, +as I afterward learned, being wielded by Colombian +<em>gauchos</em>. These portentous weapons, fully fourteen feet +long, were held in both hands, the reins being meanwhile placed on +the knees, and the horses guided by voice and spur. The Spaniards +seemed terribly afraid of them, as well they might be, for the +Colombian spears did dire execution. Few missed their mark, and I +saw more than one trooper literally spitted and lifted clean out of +his saddle.</p> +<p>Mejia, distinguishable by his tall stature, was in the thick of +the fray. After the first shock he threw away his spear, and +drawing a long two-handed sword, which he carried at his back, laid +about like a <em>coeur-de-lion</em>. The combat lasted only a few +minutes, and though we were too late to contribute to the victory +we were in time to take part in the pursuit.</p> +<p>It was a scene of wild confusion and excitement; the Spaniards +galloping off in all directions, singly and in groups, making no +attempt to rally, yet when overtaken, fighting to the last, +Mejia’s men following them with lowered lances and wild +cries, managing their fiery little horses with consummate ease, and +<em>making no prisoners</em>.</p> +<p>“Here is a chance for us; let us charge these +fellows!” shouted Carmen, as eight or nine of the enemy rode +past us in full retreat; and without pausing for a reply he went +off at a gallop, followed by Gahra and myself; for although I had +no particular desire to attack men who were flying for their lives +and to whom I knew no quarter would be given, it was impossible to +hold back when my comrades were rushing into danger. Had the +Spaniards been less intent on getting away it would have fared ill +with us. As it was, we were all wounded. Gahra got a thrust through +the arm, Carmen a gash in the thigh; and as I gave one fellow the +point in his throat his spear pierced my hat and cut my head. If +some of the patriots had not come to the rescue our lives would +have paid the forfeit of our rashness.</p> +<p>The incident was witnessed by Mejia himself, who, when he +recognized Carmen, rode forward, greeted us warmly and remarked +that we were just in time.</p> +<p>“To be too late,” answered Carmen, discontentedly, +as he twisted a handkerchief round his wounded thigh.</p> +<p>“Not much; and you have done your share. That was a bold +charge you made. And your friends? I don’t think I have the +pleasure of knowing them.”</p> +<p>Carmen introduced us, and told him who I was.</p> +<p>“I am delighted to make your acquaintance, +señor,” he said, graciously, “and I will give +you of my best; but I can offer you only rough fare and plenty of +fighting. Will that content you?”</p> +<p>I bowed, and answered that I desired nothing better. The +guerilla leader was a man of striking appearance, tall, spare, and +long limbed. The contour of his face was Indian; he had the +deep-set eyes, square jaws, and lank hair of the abonguil race. But +his eyes were blue, his hair was flaxen, and his skin as fair as +that of a pure-blooded Teuton. Mejia, as I subsequently heard, was +the son of a German father and a mestizma mother, and prouder of +his Indian than his European ancestry. It was probably for this +reason that he preferred being called Mejia rather than Morgenstern +y Mejia, his original appellation. His hereditary hatred of the +Spaniards, inflamed by a sense of personal wrong, was his ruling +passion. He spared none of the race (being enemies) who fell into +his hands. Natives of the country, especially those with Indian +blood in their veins, he treated more mercifully—when his men +would let him, for they liked killing even more than they liked +fighting, and had an unpleasant way of answering a remonstrance +from their officers with a thrust from their spears.</p> +<p>Mejia owed his ascendancy over them quite as much to his good +fortune in war as to his personal prowess and resolute +character.</p> +<p>“If I were to lose a battle they would probably take my +life, and I should certainly have to resign my command,” he +observed, when we were talking the matter over after the pursuit +(which, night being near, was soon abandoned); “and a +<em>llanero</em> leader must lead—no playing the general or +watching operations from the rear—or it will be the worse for +him.”</p> +<p>“I understand; he must be first or nowhere.”</p> +<p>“Yes, first or nowhere; and they will brook no punishment +save death. If a man disobeys me I either let it pass or shoot him +out of hand, according to circumstances. If I were to strike a man +or order him under arrest, the entire force would either mutiny or +disband. <em>Si señor</em>, my <em>llaneros</em> are wild +fellows.”</p> +<p>They looked it. Most of them wore only a ragged shirt over +equally ragged trousers. Their naked feet were thrust into rusty +stirrups. Some rode bare-backed, and there were among them men of +every breed which the country produced; mestizoes, mulattoes, +zambos, quadroons, negroes, and Indios, but all born +<em>gauchos</em> and <em>llaneros</em>, hardy and in high +condition, and well skilled in the use of lasso and spear. They +were volunteers, too, and if their chief failed to provide them +with a sufficiency of fighting and plunder, they had no hesitation +in taking themselves off without asking for leave of absence.</p> +<p>When Mejia heard that a British force was being raised for +service against the Spaniards, he was greatly delighted, and +offered me on the spot a command in his “army,” or, +alternatively, the position of his principal aide-de-camp. I +preferred the latter.</p> +<p>“You have decided wisely, and I thank you, +<em>señor coronel</em>. The advice and assistance of a +soldier who has seen so much of war as you have will be very +valuable and highly esteemed.”</p> +<p>I reminded the chief that, in the British army, I had held no +higher rank than that of lieutenant.</p> +<p>“What matters that? I have made myself a general, and I +make you a colonel. Who is there to say me nay?” he demanded, +proudly.</p> +<p>Though much amused by this summary fashion of conferring +military rank, I kept a serious countenance, and, after +congratulating General Mejia on his promotion and thanking him for +mine, I said that I should do my best to justify his +confidence.</p> +<p>We bivouacked on the banks of a stream some ten miles from the +scene of our encounter with the loyalists. On our way thither, +Mejia told us that he had taken and destroyed Tres Cruces, and was +now contemplating an attack on General Griscelli at San Felipe, as +to which he asked my opinion.</p> +<p>I answered that, as I knew nothing either of the defense of San +Felipe or of the strength and character of the force commanded by +General Griscelli, I could give none. On this, Mejia informed me +that the place was a large village and military post, defended by +earthworks and block-houses, and that the force commanded by +Griscelli consisted of about twenty-five hundred men, of whom about +half were regulars, half native auxiliaries.</p> +<p>“Has he any artillery?” I asked.</p> +<p>“About ten pieces of position, but no +field-guns.”</p> +<p>“And you?”</p> +<p>“I have none whatever.”</p> +<p>“Nor any infantry?”</p> +<p>“Not here. But my colleague, General Estero, is at present +organizing a force which I dare say will exceed two thousand men, +and he promises to join me in the course of a week or +two.”</p> +<p>“That is better, certainly. Nevertheless, I fear that with +one thousand horse and two thousand foot, and without artillery, +you will not find it easy to capture a strong place, armed with ten +guns and held by twenty-five hundred men, of whom half are +regulars. If I were you I would let San Felipe alone.”</p> +<p>Mejia frowned. My advice was evidently not to his liking.</p> +<p>“Let me tell you, <em>señor coronel</em>” he +said, arrogantly, “our patriot soldiers are equal to any in +the world, regular or irregular. And, don’t you see that the +very audacity of the enterprise counts in our favor? The last thing +Griscelli expects is an attack. We shall find him unprepared and +take him by surprise. That man has done us a great deal of harm. He +hangs every patriot who falls into his hands, and I have made up my +mind to hang him!”</p> +<p>After this there was nothing more to be said, and I held my +peace. I soon found, moreover, that albeit Mejia often made a show +of consulting me he had no intention of accepting my advice, and +that all his officers (except Carmen) and most of his men regarded +me as a <em>gringo</em> (foreign interloper) and were envious of my +promotion, and jealous of my supposed influence with the +general.</p> +<p>We bivouacked in a valley on the verge of the llanos, and the +next few days were spent in raiding cattle and preparing +<em>tasajo</em>. We had also another successful encounter with a +party of Morale’s guerillas. This raised Mejia’s +spirits to the highest point, and made him more resolute than ever +to attack San Felipe. But when I saw General Estero’s +infantry my misgivings as to the outcome of the adventure were +confirmed. His men, albeit strong and sturdy and full of fight, +were badly disciplined and indifferently armed, their officers +extremely ignorant and absurdly boastful and confident. Estero +himself, though like Mejia, a splendid patriotic leader, was no +general, and I felt sure that unless we caught Griscelli asleep we +should find San Felipe an uncommonly hard nut to crack. I need +hardly say, however, that I kept this opinion religiously to +myself. Everybody was so confident and cock-sure, that the mere +suggestion of a doubt would have been regarded as treason and +probably exposed me to danger.</p> +<p>A march of four days partly across the llanos, partly among the +wooded hills by which they were bounded, brought us one morning to +a suitable camping-ground, within a few miles of San Felipe, and +Mejia, who had assumed the supreme command, decided that the attack +should take place on the following night.</p> +<p>“You will surely reconnoitre first, General Mejia,” +I ventured to say.</p> +<p>“What would be the use? Estero and I know the place. +However, if you and Carmen like to go and have a look you +may.”</p> +<p>Carmen was nothing loath, and two hours before sunset we saddled +our horses and set out. I could speak more freely to him than to +any of the others, and as we rode on I remarked how carelessly the +camp was guarded. There were no proper outposts, and instead of +being kept out of sight in the <em>quebrado</em>, the men were +allowed to come and go as they liked. Nothing would be easier than +for a treacherous soldier to desert and give information to the +enemy which might not only ruin the expedition but bring +destruction on the army.</p> +<p>“No, no, Fortescue, I cannot agree to that. There are no +traitors among us,” said my companion, warmly.</p> +<p>“I hope not. Yet how can you guarantee that among two or +three thousand men there is not a single rascal! In war, you should +leave nothing to chance. And even though none of the fellows desert +it is possible that some of them may wander too far away and get +taken prisoners, which would be quite as bad.”</p> +<p>“You mean it would give Griscelli warning?”</p> +<p>“Exactly, and if he is an enterprising general he would +not wait to be attacked. Instead of letting us surprise him he +would surprise us.”</p> +<p>“<em>Caramba!</em> So he would. And Griscelli is an +enterprising general. We must mention this to Mejia when we get +back, <em>amigo mio</em>.”</p> +<p>“You may, if you like. I am tired of giving advice which +is never heeded,” I said, rather bitterly.</p> +<p>“I will, certainly, and then whatever befalls I shall have +a clear conscience. Mejia is one of the bravest men I know. It is a +pity he is so self-opinionated.”</p> +<p>“Yes, and to make a general a man must have something more +than bravery. He must have brains.”</p> +<p>Carmen knew the country we were in thoroughly, and at his +suggestion we went a roundabout way through the woods in order to +avoid coming in contact with any of Griscelli’s people. On +reaching a hill overlooking San Felipe we tethered our horses in a +grove of trees where they were well hidden, and completed the +ascent on foot. Then, lying down, and using a field-glass lent us +by Mejia, we made a careful survey of the place and its +surroundings.</p> +<p>San Felipe, a picturesque village of white houses with thatched +roofs, lay in a wide well-cultivated valley, looking south, and +watered by a shallow stream which in the rainy season was probably +a wide river. At each corner of the village, well away from the +houses, was a large block-house, no doubt pierced for musketry. +From one block-house to another ran an earthen parapet with a +ditch, and on each parapet were mounted three guns.</p> +<p>“Well, what think you of San Felipe, and our chances of +taking it?” asked Carmen, after a while.</p> +<p>“I don’t think its defences are very formidable. A +single mortar on that height to the east would make the place +untenable in an hour; set it on fire in a dozen places. It is all +wood. But to attempt its capture with a force of infantry +numerically inferior to the garrison will be a very hazardous +enterprise indeed, and barring miraculously good luck on the one +side or miraculously ill luck on the other cannot possibly succeed, +I should say. No, Carmen, I don’t think we shall be in San +Felipe to-morrow night, or any night, just yet.”</p> +<p>“But how if a part of the garrison be absent? Hist! Did +not you hear something?”</p> +<p>“Only the crackling of a branch. Some wild animal, +probably. I wonder whether there are any jaguars +hereabout—”</p> +<p>“Oh, if the garrison be weak and the sentries sleep it is +quite possible we may take the place by a rush. But, on the other +hand, it is equally possible that Griscelli may have got wind of +our intention, and—”</p> +<p>“There it is again! Something more than a wild animal this +time, Fortescue,” exclaims Carmen, springing to his feet.</p> +<p>I follow his example; but the same instant a dozen men spring +from the bushes, and before we can offer any resistance, or even +draw our swords, we are borne to the ground and despite our +struggles, our arms pinioned to our sides.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XV" id="Ch_XV">Chapter XV.</a></h3> +<h2>An Old Enemy.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Our captors were Spanish soldiers.</p> +<p>“Be good enough to rise and accompany us to San Felipe, +señores,” said the non-commissioned officer in command +of the detachment, “and if you attempt to escape I shall blow +your brains out.”</p> +<p>“<em>Dios mio!</em> It serves us right for not keeping a +better lookout,” said Carmen, with a laugh which I thought +sounded rather hollow. “We shall be in San Felipe sooner than +we expected, that is all. Lead on, sergeant; we have a dozen good +reasons for not trying to escape, to say nothing of our strait +waistcoats.”</p> +<p>Whereupon we were marched down the hill and taken to San Felipe, +two men following with our horses, from which and other +circumstances I inferred that we had been under observation ever +since our arrival in the neighborhood. The others were doubtless +under observation also; and at the moment I thought less of our own +predicament (in view of the hanging propensities of General +Griscelli, a decidedly unpleasant one) than of the terrible +surprise which awaited Mejia and his army, for, as I quickly +perceived, the Spaniards were quite on the alert, and fully +prepared for whatever might befall. The place swarmed with +soldiers; sentries were pacing to and fro on the parapets, gunners +furbishing up their pieces, and squads of native auxiliaries being +drilled on a broad savanna outside the walls.</p> +<p>Many of the houses were mere huts—roofs on stilts; others, +“wattle and dab;” a few, brown-stone. To the most +imposing of these we were conducted by our escort. Above the +doorway, on either side of which stood a sentry, was an +inscription: “Headquarters: General Griscelli.”</p> +<p>The sergeant asked one of the sentries if the general was in, +and receiving an answer in the affirmative he entered, leaving us +outside. Presently he returned.</p> +<p>“The general will see you,” he said; “be good +enough to come in.”</p> +<p>We went in, and after traversing a wide corridor were ushered +into a large room, where an officer in undress uniform sat writing +at a big table. Several other officers were lounging in +easy-chairs, and smoking big cigars.</p> +<p>“Here are the prisoners, general,” announced our +conductor.</p> +<p>The man at the table, looking up, glanced first at Carmen, then +at me.</p> +<p>“<em>Caramba!</em>” he exclaimed, with a stare of +surprise, “you and I have met before, I think.”</p> +<p>I returned the stare with interest, for though I recognized him +I could hardly believe my own eyes.</p> +<p>“On the field of Salamanca?”</p> +<p>“Of course. You are the English officer who behaved so +insolently and got me reprimanded.” (This in French.)</p> +<p>“I did no more than my duty. It was you that behaved +insolently.”</p> +<p>“Take care what you say, señor, or <em>por +Dios</em>—There is no English general to whom you can appeal +for protection now. What are you doing here?”</p> +<p>“Not much good, I fear. Your men brought me: I had not the +least desire to come, I assure you.”</p> +<p>“You were caught on the hill yonder, surveying the town +through a glass, and Sergeant Prim overheard part of a conversation +which leaves no doubt that you are officers in Mejia’s army. +Besides, you were seen coming from the quarter where he encamped +this morning. Is this so?”</p> +<p>Carmen and I exchanged glances. My worst fears were +confirmed—we had been betrayed.</p> +<p>“Is this so? I repeat.”</p> +<p>“It is.”</p> +<p>“And have you, an English officer who has fought for +Spain, actually sunk so low as to serve with a herd of ruffianly +rebels?”</p> +<p>“At any rate, General Griscelli, I never deserted to the +enemy.”</p> +<p>The taunt stung him to the quick. Livid with rage he sprung from +his chair and placed his hand on his sword.</p> +<p>“Do you know that you are in my power?” he +exclaimed. “Had you uttered this insult in Spanish instead of +in French, I would have strung you up without more ado.”</p> +<p>“You insulted me first. If you are a true caballero give +me the satisfaction which I have a right to demand.”</p> +<p>“No, señor; I don’t meet rebels on the field +of honor. If they are common folk I hang them; if they are +gentlemen I behead them.”</p> +<p>“Which is in store for us, may I ask?”</p> +<p>“<em>Por Dios!</em> you take it very coolly. Perhaps +neither.”</p> +<p>“You will let me go, then?”</p> +<p>“Let you go! Let you go! Yes, I <em>will</em> let you +go,” laughing like a man who has made a telling joke, or +conceived a brilliant idea.</p> +<p>“When?”</p> +<p>“Don’t be impatient, señor; I should like to +have the pleasure of your company for a day or two before we part. +Perhaps after—What is the strength of Mejia’s +army?”</p> +<p>“I decline to say.”</p> +<p>“I think I could make you say, though, if it were worth +the trouble. As it happens, I know already. He has about two +thousand infantry and one thousand cavalry. What has he come here +for? Does the fool actually suppose that with a force like that he +can capture San Felipe? Such presumption deserves punishment, and I +shall give him a lesson he will not easily forget—if he lives +to remember it. Your name and quality, señor” (to +Carmen).</p> +<p>“Salvador Carmen, <em>teniente</em> in the patriot +army.”</p> +<p>“I suppose you have heard how I treat patriots?”</p> +<p>“Yes, general, and I should like to treat you in the same +way.”</p> +<p>“You mean you would like to hang me. In that case you +cannot complain if I hang you. However I won’t hang +you—to-day. I will either send you to the next world in the +company of your general, or let you go with—”</p> +<p>“Señor Fortescue?”</p> +<p>“Thank you—with Señor Fortescue. That is all, +I think. Take him to the guard-house, sergeant—Stay! If you +will give me your parole not to leave the town without my +permission, or make any attempt to escape, you may remain at large, +Señor Fortescue.”</p> +<p>“For how long?”</p> +<p>“Two days.”</p> +<p>As the escape in the circumstances seemed quite out of the +question, I gave my parole without hesitation, and asked the same +favor for my companion.</p> +<p>“No” (sternly). “I could not believe a rebel +Creole on his oath. Take him away, sergeant, and see that he is +well guarded. If you let him escape I will hang you in his +stead.”</p> +<p>Despite our bonds Carmen and I contrived to shake hands, or +rather, touch fingers, for it was little more.</p> +<p>“We shall meet again.” I whispered. “If I had +known that he would not take your parole I would not have given +mine. Let courage be our watchword. <em>Hasta +mañana!</em>”</p> +<p>“Pray take a seat, Señor Fortescue, and we will +have a talk about old times in Spain. Allow me to offer you a +cigar—I beg your pardon, I was forgetting that my fellows had +tied you up. Captain Guzman (to one of the loungers), will you +kindly loose Mr. Fortescue? <em>Gracias!</em> Now you can take a +cigar, and here is a chair for you.”</p> +<p>I was by no means sure that this sudden display of urbanity +boded me good, but being a prisoner, and at Griscelli’s +mercy, I thought it as well to humor him, so accepted the cigar and +seated myself by his side.</p> +<p>After a talk about the late war in Spain, in the course of which +Griscelli told some wonderful stories of the feats he had performed +there (for the man was egregiously vain) he led the conversation to +the present war in South America, and tried to worm out of me where +I had been and what I had done since my arrival in the country. I +answered him courteously and diplomatically, taking good care to +tell him nothing that I did not want to be known.</p> +<p>“I see,” he said, “it was a love of adventure +that brought you here—you English are always running after +adventures. A caballero like you can have no sympathy with these +rascally rebels.”</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon; I do sympathize with the rebels; not, +I confess, as warmly as I did at first, and if I had known as much +as I know now, I think I should have hesitated to join +them.”</p> +<p>“How so?”</p> +<p>“They kill prisoners in cold blood, and conduct war more +like savages than Christians.”</p> +<p>“You are right, they do. Yes, killing prisoners in cold +blood is a brutal practice! I am obliged to be severe sometimes, +much to my regret. But there is only one way of dealing with a +rebellion—you must stamp it out; civil war is not as other +wars. Why not join us, Señor Fortescue? I will give you a +command.”</p> +<p>“That is quite out of the question, General Griscelli; I +am not a mere soldier of fortune. I have eaten these people’s +salt, and though I don’t like some of their ways, I wish well +to their cause.”</p> +<p>“Think better of it, señor. The alternative might +not be agreeable.”</p> +<p>“Whatever the alternative may be, my decision is +irrevocable. And you said just now you would let me go.”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes, I will let you go, since you insist on it” +(smiling). “All the same, I think you will regret your +decision—Mejia, of course, means to attack us. He can have +come with no other object—by your advice?”</p> +<p>“Certainly not.”</p> +<p>“That means he is acting against your advice. The man is +mad. He thought of taking us by surprise, I suppose. Why, I knew he +was on his way hither two days ago! And if he does not attack us +to-night—and we are quite ready for him—I shall capture +him and the whole of his army to-morrow. I want you to go with us +and witness the operation—in the character of a +spectator.”</p> +<p>“And a prisoner?”</p> +<p>“If you choose to put it so.”</p> +<p>“In that case, there is no more to be said, though for +choice, I would rather not witness the discomfiture of my +friends.”</p> +<p>Griscelli gave an ironical smile, which I took to mean that it +was precisely for this reason that he asked me to accompany +him.</p> +<p>“Will you kindly receive Señor Fortescue, as your +guest, Captain Guzman,” he said, “take him to your +quarters, give him his supper, and find him a bed.”</p> +<p>“<em>Con mucho gusto.</em> Shall we go now, Señor +Fortescue?”</p> +<p>I went, and spent a very pleasant evening with Captain Guzman, +and several of his brother-officers, whom he invited to join us, +for though the Spaniards of that age were frightfully cruel to +their enemies, they were courteous to their guests, and as a guest +I was treated. As, moreover, most of the men I met had served in +the Peninsular war, we had quite enough to talk about without +touching on topics whose discussion might have been incompatible +with good fellowship.</p> +<p>When, at a late hour, I turned into the hammock provided for me +by Guzman, it required an effort to realize that I was a prisoner. +Why, I asked myself, had Griscelli, who was never known to spare a +prisoner, whose face was both cruel and false, and who could bear +me no good-will—why had this man treated me so courteously? +Did he really mean to let me go, and if so, why; or was the promise +made to the ear merely to be broken to the hope?</p> +<p>“Perhaps to-morrow will show,” I thought, as I fell +asleep; and I was not far out, for the day after did. Guzman, whose +room I shared, wakened me long before daylight.</p> +<p>“The bugle has sounded the reveille, and the troops are +mustering on the plaza,” he said. “You had better rise +and dress. The general has sent word that you are to go with us, +and our horses are in the <em>patio</em>.”</p> +<p>I got up at once, and after drinking a hasty cup of coffee, we +mounted and joined Griscelli and his staff.</p> +<p>The troops were already under arms, and a few minutes later we +marched, our departure being so timed, as I heard the general +observe to one of his aides-de-camp, that we might reach the +neighborhood of the rebel camp shortly before sunrise. His plan was +well conceived, and, unless Mejia had been forewarned or was +keeping a sharper lookout than he was in the habit of doing, I +feared it would go ill with him.</p> +<p>The camping-ground was much better suited for concealment than +defence. It lay in a hollow in the hills, in shape like a +horse-shoe, with a single opening, looking east, and was commanded +in every direction by wooded heights. Griscelli’s plan was to +occupy the heights with skirmishers, who, hidden behind the trees +and bushes, could shoot down the rebels with comparative security. +A force of infantry and cavalry would meanwhile take possession of +the opening and cut off their retreat. In this way, thought +Griscelli, the patriots would either be slaughtered to a man, or +compelled to surrender at discretion.</p> +<p>I could not deny (though I did not say so) that he had good +grounds for this opinion. The only hope for Mejia was that, alarmed +by our disappearance, he had stationed outposts on the heights and +a line of vedettes on the San Felipe road, and fortified the +entrance to the <em>quebrada</em>. In that case the attack might be +repulsed, despite the superiority of the Spanish infantry and the +disadvantages of Mejia’s position. But the probabilities were +against his having taken any of these precautions; the last thing +he thought of was being attacked, and I could hardly doubt that he +would be fatally entangled in the toils which were being laid for +him.</p> +<p>While these thoughts were passing through my mind we were +marching rapidly and silently toward our destination, lighted only +by the stars. The force consisted of two brigades, the second of +which, commanded by General Estero, had gone on half an hour +previously. I was with the first and rode with Griscelli’s +staff. So far there had not been the slightest hitch, and the +Spaniards promised themselves an easy victory.</p> +<p>It had been arranged that the first brigade should wait, about a +mile from the entrance to the valley until Estero opened fire, and +then advance and occupy the outlet. Therefore, when we reached the +point in question a halt was called, and we all listened eagerly +for the preconcerted signal.</p> +<p>And then occurred one of those accidents which so often mar the +best laid plans. After we had waited a full hour, and just as day +began to break, the rattle of musketry was heard on the heights, +whereupon Griscelli, keenly alive to the fact that every moment of +delay impaired his chances of success, ordered his men to fall in +and march at the double. But, unfortunately for the Spaniards, the +shots we had heard were fired too soon. The way through the woods +was long and difficult, Estero’s men got out of hand; some of +them, in their excitement, fired too soon, with the result that, +when the first division appeared in the valley, the patriots, +rudely awakened from their fancied security, were getting under +arms, and Mejia saw at a glance into what a terrible predicament +his overconfidence had led him. He saw also (for though an +indifferent general he was no fool) that the only way of saving his +army from destruction, was to break out of the valley at all +hazards, before the Spaniards enclosed him in a ring of fire.</p> +<p>Mejia took his measures accordingly. Placing his +<em>llaneros</em> and <em>gauchos</em> in front and the infantry in +the rear, he advanced resolutely to the attack; and though it is +contrary to rule for light cavalry to charge infantry, this order, +considering the quality of the rebel foot, was probably the best +which he could adopt.</p> +<p>On the other hand, the Spanish position was very strong, +Griscelli massed his infantry in the throat of the +<em>quebrada</em>, the thickets on either side of it being occupied +in force. The reserve consisted exclusively of horse, an arm in +which he was by no means strong. Mejia was thus encompassed on +three sides, and had his foes reserved their fire and stood their +ground, he could not possibly have broken through them. But the +Spaniards opened fire as soon as the rebels came within range. +Before they could reload, the <em>gauchos</em> charged, and though +many saddles were emptied, the rebel horse rode so resolutely and +their long spears looked so formidable, that the Spaniards gave way +all along the line, and took refuge among the trees, thereby +leaving the patriots a free course.</p> +<p>This was the turning-point of the battle, and had the rebel +infantry shown as much courage as their cavalry the Spaniards would +have been utterly beaten; but their only idea was to get away; they +bolted as fast as their legs could carry them, an example which was +promptly imitated by the Spanish cavalry, who instead of charging +the rebel horse in flank as they emerged from the valley, galloped +off toward San Felipe, followed <em>nolens volens</em> by Griscelli +and his staff.</p> +<p>It was the only battle I ever saw or heard of in which both +sides ran away. If Mejia had gone to San Felipe he might have taken +it without striking a blow, but besides having lost many of his +brave <em>llaneros</em>, he had his unfortunate infantry to rally +and protect, and the idea probably never occurred to him.</p> +<p>As for the Spanish infantry, they stayed in the woods till the +coast was clear, and then hied them home.</p> +<p>Griscelli was wild with rage. To have his well-laid plans +thwarted by cowardice and stupidity, the easy victory he had +promised himself turned into an ignominious defeat at the very +moment when, had his orders been obeyed, the fortunes of the day +might have been retrieved—all this would have proved a severe +trial for a hero or a saint, and certainly Griscelli bore his +reverse neither with heroic fortitude nor saintly resignation. He +cursed like the jackdaw of Rheims, threatened dire vengeance on all +and sundry, and killed one of the runaway troopers with his own +hand. I narrowly escaped sharing the same fate. Happening to catch +sight of me when his passion was at the height he swore that he +would shoot at least one rebel, and drawing a pistol from his +holster pointed it at my head. I owed my life to Captain Guzman, +who was one of the best and bravest of his officers.</p> +<p>“Pray don’t do that, general,” he said. +“It would be an ill requital for Señor +Fortescue’s faithful observance of his parole. And you +promised to let him go.”</p> +<p>“Promised to let him go! So I did, and I will be as good +as my word,” returned Griscelli, grimly, as he uncocked his +pistol. “Yes, he shall go.”</p> +<p>“Now?”</p> +<p>“No. To-night. Meet me, both of you, near the old +sugar-mill on the savanna when the moon rises; and give him a good +supper, Guzman; he will need it.”</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XVI" id="Ch_XVI">Chapter XVI.</a></h3> +<h2>The Azuferales.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>“What is General Griscelli’s game? Does he really +mean to let me go, or is he merely playing with me as a cat plays +with a mouse?” I asked Guzman, as we sat at supper.</p> +<p>“That is just the question I have been asking myself. I +never knew him let a prisoner go before, and I know of no reason +why he should treat you more leniently than he treats others. Do +you?”</p> +<p>“No. He is more likely to bear me a grudge,” and +then I told Guzman what had befallen at Salamanca.</p> +<p>“That makes it still less probable that he will let you go +away quietly. Griscelli never forgives, and to-day’s fiasco +has put him in a devil of a temper. He is malicious, too. We have +all to be careful not to offend him, even in trifles, or he would +make life very unpleasant for us, and I fear he has something very +unpleasant in store for you. You may depend upon it that he is +meditating some trick. He is quite capable of letting you go as far +as the bridge, and then bringing you back and hanging you or +fastening you to the tail of a wild mustang or the horns of a wild +bull. That also would be letting you go.”</p> +<p>“So it would, in a fashion! and I should prefer it to +being hanged.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think I would. The hanging would be sooner +over and far less painful. And there are many other ways—he +might have your hands tied behind your back and cannon-balls +fastened to your feet, and then leave you to your own +devices.”</p> +<p>“That would not be so bad. We should find some good soul +to release us, and I think I could contrive to untie Carmen’s +bonds with my teeth.”</p> +<p>“Or he might cut off your ears and put out your +eyes—”</p> +<p>“For Heaven’s sake cease these horrible suggestions! +You make my blood run cold. But you cannot be serious. Is Griscelli +in the habit of putting out the eyes of his prisoners?”</p> +<p>“Not that I am aware of; but I have heard him threaten to +do it, and known him to cut off a rebel’s ears first and hang +him afterward. All the same I don’t think he is likely to +treat you in that way. It might get to the ears of the +captain-general, and though he is not very particular where rebels +are concerned, he draws the line at mutilation.”</p> +<p>“We shall soon see; we have to be at the old sugar-mill +when the moon rises,” I said, gloomily, for the prospect held +out by Guzman was anything but encouraging.</p> +<p>“And that will be soon. If I see any way of helping you, +without compromising myself, I will. Hospitality has its duties, +and I cannot forget that you have fought and bled for Spain. Have +another drink; you don’t know what is before you! And take +this knife—it will serve also as a dagger—and this +pocket-pistol. Put them where they will not be seen. You may find +them useful.”</p> +<p>“<em>Gracias!</em> But you surely don’t think we +shall be sent adrift weaponless and on foot?”</p> +<p>“That is as it may be; but it is well to provide for +contingencies. And now let us start; nothing irritates Griscelli so +much as having to wait.”</p> +<p>So, girding on our swords (mine had been restored to me +“by special favor,” when I gave my parole), we mounted +our horses, which were waiting at the door, and set out.</p> +<p>The savanna was a wide stretch of open ground outside the +fortifications, where reviews were held and the troops performed +their evolutions; it lay on the north side of the town. Farther on +in the same direction was a range of low hills, thickly wooded and +ill provided with roads. The country to the east and west was +pretty much in the same condition. Southward it was more open, and +a score of miles away merged into the llanos.</p> +<p>“We are in good time; the moon is only just rising, and I +don’t think there is anybody before us,” said Guzman, +as we neared the old sugar-mill, a dilapidated wooden building, +shaded by cebia-trees and sombrero palms.</p> +<p>“But there is somebody behind us,” I said, looking +back. “A squadron of cavalry at the least.”</p> +<p>“Griscelli, I suppose, and Carmen. But why is the general +bringing so many people with him, I wonder? And don’t I see +dogs?”</p> +<p>“Rather! A pack of hounds, I should say.”</p> +<p>“You are right; they are Griscelli’s blood-hounds. +Is it possible that a prisoner or a slave has escaped, and +Griscelli will ask us to join in the hunt?”</p> +<p>“Join in the hunt! You surely don’t mean that you +hunt men in this country?”</p> +<p>“Sometimes—when the men are slaves or rebels. It is +a sport the general greatly enjoys. Yet it seems very strange; at +this time of night, too—<em>Dios mio!</em> can it be +possible?”</p> +<p>“Can what be possible, Captain Guzman?” I exclaimed, +in some excitement, for a terrible suspicion had crossed my +mind.</p> +<p>“Can what be possible? In Heaven’s name speak +out!”</p> +<p>But, instead of answering, Guzman went forward to meet +Griscelli. I followed him.</p> +<p>“Good-evening, gentlemen,” said the general; +“I am glad you are so punctual. I have brought your friend, +Señor Fortescue. As you were taken together, it seems only +right that you should be released together. It would be a pity to +separate such good friends. You see, I am as good as my word. You +don’t speak. Are you not grateful?”</p> +<p>“That depends on the conditions, general.”</p> +<p>“I make no conditions whatever. I let you go—neither +more nor less—whither you will. But I must warn you that, +twenty minutes after you are gone, I shall lay on my hounds. If you +outrun them, well and good; if not, <em>tant pis pour vous</em>. I +shall have kept my word. Are you not grateful, señor +Fortescue?”</p> +<p>“No; why should I be grateful for a death more terrible +than hanging. Kill us at once, and have done with it. You are a +disgrace to the noble profession of arms, general, and the time +will come—”</p> +<p>“Another word, and I will throw you to the hounds without +further parley,” broke in Griscelli, savagely.</p> +<p>“Better keep quiet; there is nothing to be gained by +roiling him,” whispered Carmen.</p> +<p>I took his advice and held my peace, all the more willingly as +there was something in Carmen’s manner which implied that he +did not think our case quite so desperate as might appear.</p> +<p>“Dismount and give up your weapons,” said +Griscelli.</p> +<p>Resistance being out of the question, we obeyed with the best +grace we could; but I bitterly regretted having to part with the +historic Toledo and my horse Pizarro; he had carried me well, and +we thoroughly understood each other. The least I could do was to +give him his freedom, and, as I patted his neck by way of bidding +him farewell, I slipped the bit out of his mouth, and let him +go.</p> +<p>“Hallo! What is that—a horse loose? Catch him, some +of you,” shouted Griscelli, who had been talking with his +huntsman and Captain Guzman, whereupon two of the troopers rode off +in pursuit, a proceeding which made Pizarro gallop all the faster, +and I knew that, follow him as long as they might, they would not +overtake him.</p> +<p>Griscelli resumed his conversation with Captain Guzman, an +opportunity by which I profited to glance at the hounds, and though +I was unable just then to regard them with very kindly feelings, I +could not help admiring them. Taller and more strongly built than +fox-hounds, muscular and broad-chested, with pendulous ears and +upper lips, and stern, thoughtful faces, they were splendid +specimens of the canine race; even sized too, well under control, +and in appearance no more ferocious than other hounds. Why should +they be? All hounds are blood-hounds in a sense, and it is probably +indifferent to them whether they pursue a fox, a deer, or a man; it +is entirely a matter of training.</p> +<p>“I am going to let you have more law than I mentioned just +now” said Griscelli, turning to Carmen and me. “Captain +Guzman, here, and the huntsmen think twenty minutes would not give +us much of a run—these hounds are very fast—so I shall +make it forty. But you must first submit to a little operation. +Make them ready, Jose.”</p> +<p>Whereupon one of the attendants, producing a bottle, smeared our +shoes and legs with a liquid which looked like blood, and was, no +doubt, intended to insure a good scent and render our escape +impossible. While this was going on Carmen and I took off our coats +and threw them on the ground.”</p> +<p>“When I give the word you may start,” said +Griscelli, “and forty minutes afterward the hounds will be +laid on—Now!”</p> +<p>“This way! Toward the hills!” said Carmen. +“Are you in good condition?”</p> +<p>“Never better.”</p> +<p>“We must make all the haste we can, before the hounds are +laid on. If we can keep this up we shall reach the hills in forty +minutes—perhaps less.”</p> +<p>“And then? These hounds will follow us for ever—no +possibility of throwing them out—unless—is there a +river?”</p> +<p>“None near enough, still—”</p> +<p>“You have hope, then—”</p> +<p>“Just a little—I have an idea—if we can go on +running two hours—have you a flint and steel?”</p> +<p>“Yes, and a loaded pistol and a knife.”</p> +<p>“Good! That is better than I thought. But don’t +talk. We shall want every bit of breath in our bodies before we +have done. This way! By the cane-piece there!”</p> +<p>With heads erect, arms well back, and our chests expanded to +their utmost capacity we sped silently onward; and although we do +not despair we realize to the full that we are running for our +lives; grim Death is on our track and only by God’s help and +good fortune can we hope to escape.</p> +<p>Across the savanna, past corn-fields and cane-pieces we race +without pause—looking neither to the right nor +left—until we reach the road leading to the hills. Here we +stop a few seconds, take a few deep breaths, and then, on again. So +far, the road has been tolerable, almost level and free from +obstructions. But now it begins to rise, and is so rugged withal +that we have to slow our speed and pick our way. Farther on it is +the dry bed of a torrent, cumbered with loose stones and erratic +blocks, among which we have to struggle painfully.</p> +<p>“This is bad,” gasps Carmen. “The hounds must +be gaining on us fast.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but the scent will be very catching among these +stones. They won’t run fast here. Let us jump from block to +block instead of walking over the pebbles. It will make it all the +better for us and worse for them.”</p> +<p>On this suggestion we straightway act, but we find the striding +and jumping so exhausting, and the risk of slipping and breaking a +limb so great, that we are presently compelled to betake ourselves +once more to the bed of the stream.</p> +<p>“Never mind,” says Carmen, “we shall soon be +out of this valley of stones, and the hounds will not find it easy +to pick up the scent hereabout. If we only keep out of their jaws +another half-hour!”</p> +<p>“Of course, we shall—and more—I hope for ever. +We can go on for another hour. But what is your point?”</p> +<p>“The <em>azuferales</em>.”</p> +<p>“The <em>azuferales</em>! What are the +<em>azuferales</em>”</p> +<p>“I cannot explain now. You will see. If we get there ten +or fifteen minutes before the hounds we shall have a good chance of +escaping them.”</p> +<p>“And how long?”</p> +<p>“That depends—perhaps twenty.”</p> +<p>“Then, in Heaven’s name, lead on. It is life or +death? Even five minutes may make all the difference. Which +way?”</p> +<p>“By this trail to the right, and through the +forest.”</p> +<p>The trail is a broad grass-grown path, not unlike a +“ride” in an English wood, bordered by trees and thick +undergrowth, but fairly lighted by the moonbeams, and, fortunately +for us, rather downhill, with no obstacles more formidable than +fallen branches, and here and there a prostrate monarch of the +forest, which we easily surmount.</p> +<p>As we go on I notice that the character of the vegetation begins +to change. The trees are less leafy, the undergrowth is less dense, +and a mephitic odor pervades the air. Presently the foliage +disappears altogether, and the trees and bushes are as bare as if +they had been stricken with the blast of an Arctic winter; but +instead of being whitened with snow or silvered with frost they are +covered with an incrustation, which in the brilliant moonlight +makes them look like trees and bushes of gold. Over their tops rise +faint wreaths of yellowish clouds and the mephitic odor becomes +more pronounced.</p> +<p>“At last!” shouts Carmen, as we reach the end of the +trail. “At last! <em>Amigo mio</em>, we are saved!”</p> +<p>Before us stretches a wide treeless waste like a turf moor, with +a background of sombre forest. The moor, which is broken into humps +and hillocks, smokes and boils and babbles like the hell-broth of +Macbeth’s witches, and across it winds, snake-wise, a +steaming brook. Here and there is a stagnant pool, and underneath +can be heard a dull roar, as if an imprisoned ocean were beating on +a pebble-strewed shore. There is an unmistakable smell of sulphur, +and the ground on which we stand, as well as the moor itself, is of +a deep-yellow cast.</p> +<p>This, then, is the <em>azuferales</em>—a region of sulphur +springs, a brimstone inferno, a volcano in the making. No hounds +will follow us over that hideous heath and through that Stygian +stream.</p> +<p>“Can we get across and live?” I ask. “Will it +bear?”</p> +<p>“I think so. But out with your knife and cut some twigs; +and where are your flint and steel?”</p> +<p>“What are you going to do ?”</p> +<p>“Set the forest on fire—the wind is from +us—and instead of following us farther—and who knows +that they won’t try?—instead of following us farther +they will have to hark back and run for their lives.”</p> +<p>Without another word we set to work gathering twigs, which we +place among the trees. Then I dig up with my knife and add to the +heap several pieces of the brimstone impregnated turf. This done, I +strike a light with my flint and steel.</p> +<p>“Good!” exclaims Carmen. “In five minutes it +will be ablaze; in ten, a brisk fire;” and with that we throw +on more turf and several heavy branches which, for the moment, +almost smother it up.</p> +<p>“Never mind, it still burns, and—hark! What is +that?”</p> +<p>“The baying of the hounds and the cries of the hunters. +They are nearer than I thought. To the <em>azuferales</em> for our +lives!”</p> +<p>The moor, albeit in some places yielding and in others +treacherous, did not, as I feared, prove impassable. By threading +our way between the smoking sulphur heaps and carefully avoiding +the boiling springs we found it possible to get on, yet slowly and +with great difficulty; and it soon became evident that, long before +we gain the forest the hounds will be on the moor. Their +deep-throated baying and the shouts of the field grow every moment +louder and more distinct. If we are viewed we shall be lost; for if +the blood-hounds catch sight of us not even the terrors of the +<em>azuferales</em> will balk them of their prey. And to our dismay +the fire does not seem to be taking hold. We can see nothing of it +but a few faint sparks gleaming through the bushes.</p> +<p>But where can we hide? The moor is flat and treeless, the forest +two or three miles away in a straight line, and we can go neither +straight nor fast. If we cower behind one of the smoking brimstone +mounds we shall be stifled; if we jump into one of the boiling +springs we shall be scalded.</p> +<p>“Where can we hide?” I ask.</p> +<p>“Where can we hide?” repeated Carmen.</p> +<p>“That pool! Don’t you see that, a little farther on, +the brook forms a pool, and, though it smokes, I don’t think +it is very hot.”</p> +<p>“It is just the place,” and with that Carmen runs +forward and plunges in.</p> +<p>I follow him, first taking the precaution to lay my pistol and +knife on the edge. The water, though warm, is not uncomfortably +hot, and when we sit down our heads are just out of the water.</p> +<p>We are only just in time. Two minutes later the hounds, with a +great crash, burst out of the forest, followed at a short interval +by half a dozen horsemen.</p> +<p>“Curse this brimstone! It has ruined the scent,” I +heard Griscelli say, as the hounds threw up their heads and came to +a dead stop. “If I had thought those <em>ladrones</em> would +run hither I would not have given them twenty minutes, much less +forty. But they cannot be far off; depend upon it, they are hiding +somewhere.—<em>Por Dios</em>, Sheba has it! Good dog! Hark to +Sheba! Forward, forward!”</p> +<p>It was true. One of the hounds had hit off the line, then +followed another and another, and soon the entire pack was once +more in full cry. But the scent was very bad, and seemed to grow +worse; there was a check every few yards, and when they got to the +brook (which had as many turns and twists as a coiled rope), they +were completely at fault. Nevertheless, they persevered, questing +about all over the moor, except in the neighborhood of the sulphur +mounds and the springs.</p> +<p>While this was going on the horsemen had tethered their steeds +and were following on foot, riding over the <em>azuferales</em> +being manifestly out of the question. Once Griscelli and Sheba, who +appeared to be queen of the pack, came so near the pool that if we +had not promptly lowered our heads to the level of the water they +would certainly have seen us.</p> +<p>“I am afraid they have given us the slip,” I heard +Griscelli say. “There is not a particle of scent. But if they +have not fallen into one of those springs and got boiled, +I’ll have them yet—even though I stop all night, or +come again to-morrow.”</p> +<p>“<em>Mira! Mira!</em> General, the forest is on +fire!” shouted somebody. “And the horses—see, +they are trying to get loose!”</p> +<p>Then followed curses and cries of dismay, the huntsman sounded +his horn to call off the hounds and Carmen and I, raising our +heads, saw a sight that made us almost shout for joy.</p> +<p>The fire, which all this time must have been smouldering unseen, +had burst into a great blaze, trees and bushes were wrapped in +sulphurous flames, which, fanned by the breeze, were spreading +rapidly. The very turf was aglow; two of the horses had broken +loose and were careering madly about; the others were tugging +wildly at their lariats.</p> +<p>Meanwhile Griscelli and his companions, followed by the hounds, +were making desperate haste to get back to the trail and reach the +valley of stones. But the road was rough, and in attempting to take +short cuts several of them came to grief. Two fell into a deep pool +and had to be fished out. Griscelli put his foot into one of the +boiling springs, and, judging from the loud outcry he made, got +badly scalded.</p> +<p>By the time the hunters were clear of the moor the loose horses +had disappeared in the forest, and the trees on either side of the +trail were festooned with flames. Then there was mounting in hot +haste, and the riders, led by Griscelli (the two dismounted men +holding on to their stirrup leathers), and followed by the howling +and terrified hounds, tore off at the top of their speed.</p> +<p>“They are gone, and I don’t think they will be in +any hurry to come back,” said Carmen, as he scrambled out of +the pool. “It was a narrow shave, though.”</p> +<p>“Very, and we are not out of the wood yet. Suppose the +fire sweeps round the moor and gains the forest on the other +side?”</p> +<p>“In that case we stand a very good chance of being either +roasted or starved, for we have no food, and there is not a living +thing on the moor but ourselves.”</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XVII" id="Ch_XVII">Chapter XVII.</a></h3> +<h2>A Timely Warning.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>The involuntary bath which saved our lives served also to +restore our strength. When we entered it we were well-nigh spent; +we went out of it free from any sense of fatigue, a result which +was probably as much due to the chemical properties of the water as +to its high temperature.</p> +<p>But though no longer tired we were both hungry and thirsty, and +our garments were wringing wet. Our first proceeding was to take +them off and wring them; our next, to look for fresh +water—for the <em>azuferales</em> was like the ocean-water, +water everywhere and not a drop to drink.</p> +<p>As we picked our way over the smoking waste by the light of the +full moon and the burning forest, I asked Carmen, who knew the +country and its ways so much better than myself, what he proposed +that we should do next.</p> +<p>“Rejoin Mejia.”</p> +<p>“But how? We are in the enemies’ country and without +horses, and we know not where Mejia is.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think he is far off. He is not the man to +retreat after a drawn battle. Until he has beaten Griscelli or +Griscelli has beaten him, you may be sure he won’t go back to +the llanos; his men would not let him. As for horses, we must +appropriate the first we come across, either by stratagem or +force.”</p> +<p>“Is there a way out of the forest on this side?”</p> +<p>“Yes, there is a good trail made by Indian invalids who +come here to drink the waters. Our difficulty will not be so much +in finding our friends as avoiding our enemies. A few hours’ +walk will bring us to more open country, but we cannot well start +until—”</p> +<p>“Good heavens! What is that?” I exclaimed, as a +plaintive cry, which ended in a wail of anguish, such as might be +given by a lost soul in torment, rang through the forest.</p> +<p>“It’s an <em>araguato</em>, a howling monkey,” +said Carmen, indifferently. “That’s only some old +fellow setting the tune; we shall have a regular chorus +presently.”</p> +<p>And so we had. The first howl was followed by a second, then by +a third, and a fourth, and soon all the <em>araguatoes</em> in the +neighborhood joined in, and the din became so agonizing that I was +fain to put my fingers in my ears and wait for a lull.</p> +<p>“It sounds dismal enough, in all conscience—to us; +but I think they mean it for a cry of joy, a sort of morning hymn; +at any rate, they don’t generally begin until sunrise. But +these are perhaps mistaking the fire for the sun.”</p> +<p>And no wonder. It was spreading rapidly. The leafless trees that +bordered the western side of the <em>azuferales</em> were all +alight; sparks, carried by the wind, had kindled several giants of +the forest, which, “tall as mast of some high admiral,” +were flaunting their flaring banners a hundred feet above the mass +of the fire.</p> +<p>It was the most magnificent spectacle I had ever seen, so +magnificent that in watching it we forgot our own danger, as, if +the fire continued to spread, the forest would be impassable for +days, and we should be imprisoned on the <em>azuferales</em> +without either food or fresh water.</p> +<p>“Look yonder!” said Carmen, laying his hand on my +shoulder. A herd of deer were breaking out of the thicket and +bounding across the moor.</p> +<p>“Wild animals escaping from the fire?”</p> +<p>“Yes, and we shall have more of them.”</p> +<p>The words were scarcely spoken when the deer were followed by a +drove of peccaries; then came jaguars, pumas, antelopes, and +monkeys; panthers and wolves and snakes, great and small, wriggling +over the ground with wondrous speed, and creatures the like of +which I had never seen before—a regular stampede of all sorts +and conditions of reptiles and beasts, and all too much frightened +to meddle either with us or each other.</p> +<p>Fortunately for us, moreover, we were not in their line of +march, and there lay between us and them a line of hot springs and +smoking sulphur mounds which they were not likely to pass.</p> +<p>The procession had been going on about half an hour when, +happening to cast my eye skyward, I saw that the moon had +disappeared; overhead hung a heavy mass of cloud, the middle of it +reddened by the reflection from the fire to the color of blood, +while the outer edges were as black as ink. It was almost as grand +a spectacle as the burning forest itself.</p> +<p>“We are going to have rain,” said Carmen.</p> +<p>“I hope it will rain in bucketfuls,” was my answer, +for I had drunk nothing since we left San Felipe, and the run, +together with the high temperature and the heat of the fire, had +given me an intolerable thirst. I spoke with difficulty, my swollen +tongue clove to the roof of my mouth, and I would gladly have given +ten years of my life for one glass of cold water.</p> +<p>Carmen, whose sufferings were as great as my own, echoed my +hope. And it was not long in being gratified, for even as we gazed +upward a flash of lightning split the clouds asunder; peal of +thunder followed on peal, the rain came down not in drops nor +bucketfuls but in sheets, and with weight and force sufficient to +beat a child or a weakling to the earth, It was a veritable +godsend; we caught the beautiful cool water in our hands and drank +our fill.</p> +<p>In less than an hour not a trace of the fire could be +seen—nor anything else. The darkness had become so dense that +we feared to move lest we might perchance step into one of the +boiling springs, fall into the jaws of a jaguar, or set foot on a +poisonous snake. So we stayed where we were, whiles lying on the +flooded ground, whiles standing up or walking a few paces in the +rain, which continued to fall until the rising of the sun, when it +ceased as suddenly as it had begun.</p> +<p>The moor had been turned into a smoking swamp, with a blackened +forest on one side and a wall of living green on the other. The +wild animals had vanished.</p> +<p>“Let us go!” said Carmen.</p> +<p>When we reached the trees we took off our clothes a second time, +hung them on a branch, and sat in the sun till they dried.</p> +<p>“I suppose it is no use thinking about breakfast till we +get to a house or the camp, wherever that may be?” I +observed, as we resumed our journey.</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t know. What do you say about a cup of +milk to begin with?”</p> +<p>“There is nothing I should like better—to begin +with—but where is the cow?”</p> +<p>“There!” pointing to a fine tree with oblong +leaves.</p> +<p>“That!”</p> +<p>“Yes, that is the <em>palo de vaca</em> (cow-tree), and as +you shall presently see, it will give us a very good breakfast, +though we may get nothing else. But we shall want cups. Ah, there +is a calabash-tree! Lend me your knife a minute. +<em>Gracias!</em>”</p> +<p>And with that Carmen went to the tree, from which he cut a large +pear-shaped fruit. This, by slicing off the top and scooping out +the pulp he converted into a large bowl. The next thing was to make +a gash in the <em>palo de vaca</em>, whereupon there flowed from +the wound a thick milky fluid which we caught in the bowl and +drank. The taste was agreeable and the result satisfactory, for, +though a beefsteak would have been more acceptable, the drink +stayed our hunger for the time and helped us on our way.</p> +<p>The trail was easily found. For a considerable distance it ran +between a double row of magnificent mimosa-trees which met overhead +at a height of fully one hundred and fifty feet, making a glorious +canopy of green leaves and rustling branches. The rain had cooled +the air and laid the dust, and but for the danger we were in +(greater than we suspected) and the necessity we were under of +being continually on the alert, we should have had a most enjoyable +walk. Late in the afternoon we passed a hut and a maize-field, the +first sign of cultivation we had seen since leaving the +<em>azuferales</em>, and ascertained our bearings from an old peon +who was swinging in a grass hammock and smoking a cigar. San Felipe +was about two leagues away, and he strongly advised us not to +follow a certain trail, which he described, lest haply we might +fall in with Mejia’s caballeros, some of whom he had himself +seen within the hour a little lower down the valley.</p> +<p>This was good news, and we went on in high spirits.</p> +<p>“Didn’t I tell you so?” said Carmen, +complacently. “I knew Mejia would not be far off. He is like +one of your English bull-dogs. He never knows when he is +beaten.”</p> +<p>After a while the country became more open, with here and there +patches of cultivation; huts were more frequent and we met several +groups of peons who, however, eyed us so suspiciously that we +thought it inexpedient to ask them any questions.</p> +<p>About an hour before sunset we perceived in the near distance a +solitary horseman; but as his face was turned the other way he did +not see us.</p> +<p>“He looks like one of our fellows,” observed Carmen, +after scanning him closely. “All the same, he may not be. Let +us slip behind this acacia-bush and watch his movements.”</p> +<p>The man himself seemed to be watching. After a short halt, he +rode away and returned, but whether halting or moving he was always +on the lookout, and as might appear, keenly expectant.</p> +<p>At length he came our way.</p> +<p>“I do believe—<em>Por Dios</em> it is—Guido +Pasto, my own man!” and Carmen, greatly excited, rushed from +his hiding-place shouting, “Guido!” at the top of his +voice.</p> +<p>I followed him, equally excited but less boisterous.</p> +<p>Guido, recognizing his master’s voice, galloped forward +and greeted us warmly, for though he acted as Carmen’s +servant he was a free <em>llanero</em>, and expected to be treated +as a gentleman and a friend.</p> +<p>“<em>Gracias a Dios!</em>” he said; “I was +beginning to fear that we had passed you. Gahra and I have been +looking for you all day!”</p> +<p>“That was very good of you; and Señor Fortescue and +I owe you a thousand thanks. But where are General Mejia and the +army?”</p> +<p>“Near the old place. In a better position, though. But you +must not go there—neither of you.”</p> +<p>“We must not go there! But why?”</p> +<p>“Because if you do the general will hang you.”</p> +<p>“Hang us! Hang Señor Fortescue, who has come all +the way from England to help us! Hang <em>me</em>, Salvador Carmen! +You have had a sunstroke and lost your wits; that’s what it +is, Guido Pasto, you have lost your wits—but, perhaps you are +joking. Say, now, you are joking.”</p> +<p>“No, <em>señor</em>. It would ill become me to make +a foolish joke at your expense. Neither have I lost my wits, as you +are pleased to suggest. It is only too true; you are in deadly +peril. We may be observed, even now. Let us go behind these bushes, +where we may converse in safety. It was to warn you of your danger +that Gahra and I have been watching for you. Gahra will be here +presently, and he will tell you that what I say is true.”</p> +<p>“This passes comprehension. What does it all mean? Out +with it, good Guido; you have always been faithful, and I +don’t think you are a fool.”</p> +<p>“Thanks for your good opinion, señor. Well, it is +very painful for me to have to say it; but the general believes, +and save your own personal friends, all the army believes, that you +and señor Fortescue are traitors—that you betrayed +them to the enemy.”</p> +<p>“On what grounds?” asked Carmen, highly +indignant.</p> +<p>“You went to reconnoitre; you did not come back; the next +morning we were attacked by Griscelli in force, and Señor +Fortescue was seen among the enemy, seen by General Mejia himself. +It was, moreover, reported this morning in the camp that Griscelli +had let you go.”</p> +<p>“So he did, and hunted us with his infernal blood-hounds, +and we only escaped by the skin of our teeth. We were surprised and +taken prisoners. Señor Fortescue was a prisoner on parole +when the general saw him. I believe Griscelli obtained his parole +and took him to the <em>quebrada</em> for no other purpose than to +compromise him with the patriots. And that I, who have killed more +than a hundred Spaniards with my own hand, should be suspected of +deserting to the enemy is too monstrous for belief.”</p> +<p>“Of course, it is an absurd mistake. Appearances are +certainly rather against us—at any rate, against me; but a +word of explanation will put the matter right. Let us go to the +camp at once and have it out.”</p> +<p>“Not so fast, Señor Fortescue. I should like to +have it out much. But there is one little difficulty in the way +which you may not have taken into account. Mejia never listens to +explanations, and never goes back on his word. If he said he would +hang us he will. He would be very sorry afterward, I have no doubt; +but that would not bring us back to life, and it would be rather +ridiculous to escape Griscelli’s blood-hounds, only to be +hanged by our own people.”</p> +<p>“And that is not the worst,” put in Guido.</p> +<p>“Not the worst! Why what can be worse than being +hanged?”</p> +<p>“I mean that even if the general did not carry out his +threat you would be killed all the same. The Colombian gauchos +swear that they will hack you to pieces wherever they find you. +When Gahra comes he will tell you the same.”</p> +<p>“You have heard; what do you say?” asked Carmen, +turning to me.</p> +<p>“Well, as it seems so certain that if we return to the +camp we shall either be hanged or hacked to pieces, I am decidedly +of opinion that we had better not return.”</p> +<p>“So am I. At the same time, it is quite evident that we +cannot remain here, while every man’s hand is against us. Is +there any possibility of procuring horses, Guido?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. I think Gahra and I will be able to bring you +horses and arms after nightfall.”</p> +<p>“Good! And will Gahra and you throw in your lot with +us?”</p> +<p>“Where you go I will go, señor. Let Gahra speak for +himself. He will be here shortly. He is coming now. I will show +myself that he may know we are here” (stepping out of the +thicket).</p> +<p>When the negro arrived he expressed great satisfaction at +finding us alive and well. He did not think there would be any +great difficulty in getting away and bringing us horses. The +<em>lleranos</em> were still allowed to come and go pretty much as +they liked, and if awkward questions were asked it would be easy to +invent excuses. The best time to get away would be immediately +after nightfall, when most of the foraging parties would have +returned to camp and the men be at supper.</p> +<p>It was thereupon agreed that the attempt should be made, and +that we should stay where we were until we heard the howl of an +<em>araguato</em>, which Guido could imitate to perfection. This +would signify that all was well, and the coast clear.</p> +<p>Then, after giving us a few pieces of <em>tasajo</em> and a +handful of cigars, the two men rode off; for the night was at hand, +and if we did not escape before light of moon, the chances were +very much against our escaping at all.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XVIII" id="Ch_XVIII">Chapter XVIII.</a></h3> +<h2>A New Departure.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>“We seem always to be escaping, <em>amigo mio</em>,” +said Carmen, as we sat in the shade, eating our <em>tasajo</em>. +“We got out of one scrape only to get into another. Your +experience of the country so far has not been happy.”</p> +<p>“Well, I certainly have had rather a lively time of it +since I landed at La Guayra, if that is what you mean.”</p> +<p>“Very. And I should almost advise you to leave the +country, if that were possible. But reaching the coast in present +circumstances is out of the question. All the ports are in +possession of the Spaniards, and the roads thither beset by +guerillas. I see nothing for it but to go on the llanos and form a +guerilla band of our own.”</p> +<p>“Isn’t guerilla merely another name for +brigand?”</p> +<p>“Too often. You must promise the fellows +plunder.”</p> +<p>“And provide it.”</p> +<p>“Of course, or pay them out of your own pocket.”</p> +<p>“Well, I am not disposed to become a brigand chief; and I +could not keep a band of guerillas at my own charge even if I were +disposed. As we cannot get out of the country either by the north +or east, what do you say to trying south?”</p> +<p>“How far? To the Brazils?”</p> +<p>“Farther. Over the Andes to Peru.”</p> +<p>“Over the Andes to Peru? That is a big undertaking. Do you +think we could find that mountain of gold and precious stones you +were telling me about?”</p> +<p>“I never entertained any idea so absurd. I merely +mentioned poor old Zamorra’s crank as an instance of how +credulous people could be.”</p> +<p>“Well, perhaps the idea is not quite so absurd as you +suppose. Even stranger things have happened; and we do know that +there is gold pretty nearly everywhere on this continent, to say +nothing of the treasure hidden in times past by Indians and +Spaniards, and we might find both gold and diamonds.”</p> +<p>“Of course we might; and as we cannot stay here, we may as +well make the attempt.”</p> +<p>“You are not forgetting that it will be very dangerous? We +shall carry our lives in our hands.”</p> +<p>“That will be nothing new; I have carried my life in my +hands ever since I came to Venezuela.”</p> +<p>“True, and if you are prepared to encounter the risk and +the hardship—As for myself, I must confess that the idea +pleases me. But have you any money? We shall have to equip our +expedition. If there are only four of us we shall not get beyond +the Rio Negro. The Indians of that region are as fierce as +alligators.”</p> +<p>“I have a few <em>maracotes</em> in the waistband of my +trousers and this ring.”</p> +<p>“That ring is worth nothing, my friend; at any rate not +more than a few reals.”</p> +<p>“A few reals! It contains a ruby, though you don’t +see it, worth fully five hundred piasters—if I could find a +customer for it.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think you will easily find a customer for a +ruby ring on the llanos. However, I’ll tell you what. An old +friend of mine, a certain Señor Morillones, has a large +estate at a place called Naparima on the Apure. Let us go there to +begin with. Morillones will supply us with mules, and we may +possibly persuade some of his people to accompany us. +Treasure-hunting is always an attraction for the adventurous. What +say you?”</p> +<p>“Yes. By all means let us go.”</p> +<p>“We may regard it as settled, then, that we make in the +first instance for Naparima.”</p> +<p>“Certainly.”</p> +<p>“That being the case the best thing we can do is to have a +sleep. We got none last night, and we are not likely to get any +to-night.”</p> +<p>As Carmen spoke he folded his arms and shut his eyes. I followed +his example, and we knew no more until, as it seemed in about five +minutes, we were roused by a terrific howl.</p> +<p>We jumped up at once and ran out of the thicket. Gahra and Guido +were waiting for us, each with a led horse.</p> +<p>“We were beginning to think you had been taken, or gone +away,” said Guido, hoarsely. “I have howled six times +in succession. My voice will be quite ruined.”</p> +<p>“It did not sound so just now. We were fast +asleep.”</p> +<p>“Pizarro!” I exclaimed, greatly delighted by the +sight of my old favorite. “You have brought Pizarro! How did +you manage that, Gahra?”</p> +<p>“He came to the camp last night. But mount at once, +señor. We got away without difficulty—stole off while +the men were at supper. But we met an officer who asked us a +question; and though Guido said we were taking the horses by order +of General Mejia himself, he did not appear at all satisfied, and +if he should speak to the general something might happen, +especially as it is not long since we left the camp, and we have +been waiting here ten minutes. Here is a spear for you, and the +pistols in your holsters are loaded and primed.”</p> +<p>I mounted without asking any more questions. Gahra’s news +was disquieting, and we had no time to lose; for, in order to reach +the llanos without the almost certainty of falling into the hands +of our friend Griscelli, we should have to pass within a mile of +the patriot camp, and if an alarm were given, our retreat might be +cut off. This, however, seemed to be our only danger; our horses +were fleet and fresh, and the llanos near, and, once fairly away, +we might bid defiance to pursuit.</p> +<p>“Let us push on,” said Carmen. “If anybody +accosts us don’t answer a word, and fight only at the last +extremity, to save ourselves from capture or death; and, above all +things, silence in the ranks.”</p> +<p>The night was clear, the sky studded with stars, and, except +where trees overhung the road, we could see some little distance +ahead, the only direction in which we had reason to apprehend +danger.</p> +<p>Carmen and I rode in front; Gahra and Guido a few yards in the +rear.</p> +<p>We had not been under way more than a few minutes when Gahra +uttered an exclamation.</p> +<p>“Hist, señores! Look behind!” he said.</p> +<p>Turning half round in our saddles and peering intently into the +gloom we could just make out what seemed like a body of horsemen +riding swiftly after us.</p> +<p>“Probably a belated foraging party returning to +camp,” said Carmen. “Deucedly awkward, though! But they +have, perhaps, no desire to overtake us. Let us go on just fast +enough to keep them at a respectful distance.”</p> +<p>But it very soon became evident that the foraging party—if +it were a foraging party—did desire to overtake us. They put +on more speed; so did we. Then came loud shouts of +“<em>Halte!</em>” These producing no effect, several +pistol shots were fired.</p> +<p>“<em>Dios mio!</em>” said Carmen; “they will +rouse the camp, and the road will be barred. Look here, Fortescue; +about two miles farther on is an open glade which we have to cross, +and which the fellows must also cross if they either meet or +intercept us. The trail to the left leads to the llanos. It runs +between high banks, and is so narrow that one resolute man may stop +a dozen. If any of the <em>gauchos</em> get there before us we are +lost. Your horse is the fleetest. Ride as for your life and hold it +till we come.”</p> +<p>Before the words were well out of Carmen’s mouth, I let +Pizarro go. He went like the wind. In six minutes I had reached my +point and taken post in the throat of the pass, well in the shade. +And I was none too soon, for, almost at the same instant, three +<em>llaneros</em> dashed into the clearing, and then, as if +uncertain what to do next, pulled up short.</p> +<p>“Whereabout was it? What trail shall we take?” asked +one.</p> +<p>“This” (pointing to the road I had just +quitted).</p> +<p>“Don’t you hear the shouts?—and there goes +another pistol shot!”</p> +<p>“Better divide,” said another. “I will stay +here and watch. You, José, go forward, and you, Sanchez, +reconnoitre the llanos trail.”</p> +<p>José went his way, Sanchez came my way.</p> +<p>Still in the shade and hidden, I drew one of my pistols and +cocked it, fully intending, however, to reserve my fire till the +last moment; I was loath to shoot a man with whom I had served only +a few days before. But when he drew near, and, shouting my name, +lowered his lance, I had no alternative; I fired, and as he fell +from his horse, the others galloped into the glade.</p> +<p>“Forward! To the llanos!” cried Carmen; “they +are close behind us. A fellow tried to stop me, but I rode him +down.”</p> +<p>And then followed a neck-or-nothing race through the pass, which +was more like a furrow than a road, steep, stony, and full of +holes, and being overshadowed by trees, as dark as chaos. Only by +the marvellous cleverness of our unshod horses and almost +miraculous good luck did we escape dire disaster, if not utter +destruction, for a single stumble might have been fatal.</p> +<p>But Carmen, who made the running, knew what he was about. His +seeming rashness was the truest prudence. Our pursuers would either +ride as hard as we did or they would not; in the latter event we +should have a good start and be beyond their ken before they +emerged from the pass; in the former, there was always the off +chance of one of the leading horsemen coming to grief and some of +the others falling over him, thereby delaying them past the +possibility of overtaking us.</p> +<p>Which of the contingencies came to pass, or whether the +guerillas, not having the fear of death behind them, rode less +recklessly than we did, we could form no idea. But their shouts +gradually became fainter; when we reached the llanos they were no +more to be heard, and when the moon rose an hour later none of our +pursuers were to be seen. Nevertheless, we pushed on, and except +once, to let our animals drink and (relieved for a moment of their +saddles) refresh themselves with a roll, after the want of +Venezuelan horses, we drew not rein until we had put fifty miles +between ourselves and Generals Mejia and Griscelli.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XIX" id="Ch_XIX">Chapter XIX.</a></h3> +<h2>Don Esteban’s Daughter.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Ten days after our flight from San Felipe we were on the banks +of the Apure. We received a warm welcome from Carmen’s +friend, Señor Morillones, a Spanish creole of the antique +type, grave, courtly, and dignified, the owner of many square miles +of fertile land and hundreds of slaves, and as rich in flocks and +herds as Job in the heyday of his prosperity. He had a large house, +fine gardens, and troops of servants. A grand seigneur in every +sense of the word was Señor Don Esteban Morillones. His +assurance that he placed himself and his house and all that was his +at our disposal was no mere phrase. When he heard of our +contemplated journey, he offered us mules, arms, and whatever else +we required and he possessed, and any mention of payment on our +part would, as Carmen said, and I could well see, have given our +generous host dire offense.</p> +<p>We found, moreover, that we could easily engage as many men as +we wanted, on condition of letting them be our co-adventurers and +share in the finds which they were sure we should make; for nobody +believed that we would undertake so long and arduous a journey with +any other purpose than the seeking of treasure. Our business being +thus satisfactorily arranged, we might have started at once, but, +for some reason or other—probably because he found our +quarters so pleasant—Carmen held back. Whenever I pressed the +point he would say: “Why so much haste, my dear fellow? Let +us stay here awhile longer,” and it was not until I +threatened to go without him that he consented to “name the +day.”</p> +<p>Now Don Esteban had a daughter, by name Juanita, a beautiful +girl of seventeen, as fresh as a rose, and as graceful as a +gazelle, a girl with whom any man might be excused for falling in +love, and she showed me so much favor, and, as it seemed, took so +much pleasure in my company, that only considerations of prudence +and a sense of what was due to my host, and the laws of +hospitality, prevented me from yielding myself a willing captive to +her charms. But as the time fixed for our departure drew near, this +policy of renunciation grew increasingly difficult. Juanita was too +unsophisticated to hide her feelings, and I judged from her ways +that, without in the least intending it, I had won her heart. She +became silent and preoccupied. When I spoke of our expedition the +tears would spring to her eyes, and she would question me about its +dangers, say how greatly she feared we might never meet again, and +how lonely she should feel when we were gone.</p> +<p>All this, however flattering to my <em>amour propre</em>, was +both embarrassing and distressing, and I began seriously to doubt +whether it was not my duty, the laws of hospitality to the contrary +notwithstanding, to take pity on Juanita, and avow the affection +which was first ripening into love. She would be my advocate with +Don Esteban, and seeing how much he had his daughter’s +happiness at heart, there could be little question that he would +pardon my presumption and sanction our betrothal.</p> +<p>Nevertheless, the preparations for our expedition went on, and +the time for our departure was drawing near, when one evening, as I +returned from a ride, I found Juanita alone on the veranda, gazing +at the stars, and looking more than usually pensive and +depressed.</p> +<p>“So you are still resolved to go, Señor +Fortescue?” she said, with a sigh.</p> +<p>“I must. One of my principal reasons for coming to South +America is to make an expedition to the Andes, and I want much to +travel in parts hitherto unexplored. And who knows? We may make +great discoveries.”</p> +<p>“But you might stay with us a little longer.”</p> +<p>“I fear we have trespassed too long on your hospitality +already.”</p> +<p>“Our hospitality is not so easily exhausted. But, O +señor, you have already stayed too long for my +happiness.”</p> +<p>“Too long, for your happiness, señorita! If I +thought—would you really like me to stay longer, to postpone +this expedition indefinitely, or abandon it altogether?”</p> +<p>“Oh, so much, señor, so much. The mere suggestion +makes me almost happy again.”</p> +<p>“And if I make your wish my law, and say that it is +abandoned, how then?”</p> +<p>“You will make me happier than I can tell you, and your +debtor for life.”</p> +<p>“And why would it make you so happy, dear Juanita?” +I asked, tenderly, at the same time looking into her beautiful eyes +and taking her unresisting hand.</p> +<p>“Why! Oh, don’t you know? Have you not +guessed?”</p> +<p>“I think I have; all the same, I should like the avowal +from your own lips, dear Juanita.”</p> +<p>“Because—because if you stay, dear,” she +murmured, lowering her eyes, and blushing deeply, “if you +stay, dear Salvador will stay too.”</p> +<p>“Dear Salvador! Dear Salvador! How—why—when? +I—I beg your pardon, señorita. I had no idea,” I +stammered, utterly confounded by this surprising revelation of her +secret and my own stupidity.</p> +<p>“I thought you knew—that you had guessed.”</p> +<p>“I mean I had no idea that it had gone so far,” I +said, recovering my self-possession with a great effort. “So +you and Carmen are betrothed.”</p> +<p>“We love. But if he goes on this dreadful expedition I am +sure my father would not consent, and Salvador says that as he has +promised to take part in it he cannot go back on his word. And I +said I would ask you to give it up—Salvador did not +like—he said it would be such a great disappointment; and I +am so glad you have consented.”</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon, señorita, I have not +consented.”</p> +<p>“But you said only a minute ago that you would do as I +desired, and that my will should be your law.”</p> +<p>“Nay, señorita, I put it merely as a supposition, I +said if I did make your wish my law, how then? Less than ever can I +renounce this expedition.”</p> +<p>“Then you were only mocking me! Cruel, cruel!”</p> +<p>“Less than ever can I renounce this expedition. But I will +do what will perhaps please you as well. I will release Carmen from +his promise. He has found his fortune; let him stay. I have mine to +make; I must go.”</p> +<p>“O señor, you have made me happy again. I thank you +with all my heart. We can now speak to my father. But you are +mistaken; it is not the same to me whether you go or stay so long +as you release Salvador from his promise. I would have you stay +with us, for I know that he and you are great friends, and that it +will pain you to part.”</p> +<p>“It will, indeed. He is a true man and one of the bravest +and most chivalrous I ever knew. I can never forget that he risked +his life to save mine. To lose so dear a friend will be a great +grief, even though my loss be your gain, +señorita.”</p> +<p>“No loss, Señor Fortescue. Instead of one friend +you will have two. Your gain will be as great as mine.”</p> +<p>My answer to these gracious words was to take her proffered hand +and press it to my lips.</p> +<p>“<em>Caramba!</em> What is this? Juanita? And you, +señor, is it the part of a friend? Do you know?”</p> +<p>“Don’t be jealous, Salvador,” said Juanita, +quietly to her lover, who had come on the balcony unperceived. +“Señor Fortescue is a true friend. He is very good; he +releases you from your promise. And he seemed so sorry and spoke so +nobly that the least I could do was to let him kiss my +hand.”</p> +<p>“You did right, Juanita. I was hasty; I cry +<em>peccavi</em> and ask your forgiveness. And you really give up +this expedition for my sake, dear friend? Thanks, a thousand +thanks.”</p> +<p>“No; I absolve you from your promise. But I shall go, all +the same.”</p> +<p>Carmen looked very grave.</p> +<p>“Think better of it, <em>amigo mio</em>,” he said. +“When we formed this project we were both in a reckless mood. +Much of the country you propose to explore has never been trodden +by the white man’s foot. It is a country of impenetrable +forests, fordless rivers, and unclimbable mountains. You will have +to undergo terrible hardships, you may die of hunger or of thirst, +and escape the poisoned arrows of wild Indians only to fall a +victim to the malarious fevers which none but natives of the +country can resist.”</p> +<p>“When did you learn all this? You talked very differently +a few days ago.”</p> +<p>“I did, but I have been making inquiries.”</p> +<p>“And you have fallen in love.”</p> +<p>“True, and that has opened my eyes to many +things.”</p> +<p>“To the dangers of this expedition, for instance; likewise +to the fact that fighting Spaniards is not the only thing worth +living for.”</p> +<p>“Very likely; love is always stronger than hate, and I +confess that I hate the Spaniards much less than I did. Yet, in +this matter, I assure you that I do not in the least exaggerate. +You must remember that your companions will be half-breeds, men who +have neither the stamina nor the courage for really rough work. +When the hardships begin they are almost sure to desert you. If we +were going together we might possibly pull through, as we have +already pulled through so many dangers.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I shall miss you sorely. All the same, I am resolved +to go, even were the danger tenfold greater than you say it +is.”</p> +<p>“I feared as much. Well, if I cannot dissuade you from +attempting this enterprise, I must e’en go with you, as I am +pledged to do. To let you undertake it alone, after agreeing to +bear you company were treason to our friendship. It would be like +deserting in the face of the enemy.”</p> +<p>“Not so, Carmen. The agreement has been cancelled by +mutual consent, and to leave Juanita after winning her heart would +be quite as bad as deserting in face of the enemy. And I have a +right to choose my company. You shall not go with me.”</p> +<p>Juanita again gave me her hand, and from the look that +accompanied it I thought that, had I spoken first—but it was +too late; the die was cast.</p> +<p>“You will not go just yet,” she murmured; “you +will stay with us a little longer.”</p> +<p>“As you wish, señorita. A few days more or less +will make little difference.”</p> +<p>Several other attempts were made to turn me from my purpose. Don +Esteban himself (who was greatly pleased with his daughter’s +betrothal to Carmen), prompted thereto by Juanita, entered the +lists. He expressed regret that he had not another daughter whom he +could bestow upon me, and went even so far as to offer me land and +to set me up as a Venezuelan country gentleman if I would consent +to stay.</p> +<p>But I remained firm to my resolve. For, albeit, none perceived +it but myself I was in a false position. Though I was not hopelessly in +love with Juanita I liked her so well that the contemplation of +Carmen’s happiness did not add to my own. I thought, too, +that Juanita guessed the true state of the case; and she was so +kind and gentle withal, and her gratitude at times was so +demonstrative that I feared if I stayed long at Naparima there +might be trouble, for like all men of Spanish blood, Carmen was +quite capable of being furiously jealous.</p> +<p>I left them a month before the day fixed for their marriage. My +companions were Gahra, and a dozen Indians and mestizoes, to each +of whom I was enabled, by Don Esteban’s kindness, to give a +handsome gratuity beforehand.</p> +<p>To Juanita I gave as a wedding-present my ruby-ring, to Carmen +my horse Pizarro.</p> +<p>Our parting was one of the most painful incidents of my long and +checkered life. I loved them both and I think they loved me. +Juanita wept abundantly; we all embraced and tried to console +ourselves by promising each other that we should meet again; but +when or where or how, none of us could tell, and in our hearts we +knew that the chances against the fruition of our hopes were too +great to be reckoned.</p> +<p>Then, full of sad thoughts and gloomy forebodings, I set out on +my long journey to the unknown.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XX" id="Ch_XX">Chapter XX.</a></h3> +<h2>The Happy Valley.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>My gloomy forebodings were only too fully realized. Never was a +more miserably monotonous journey. After riding for weeks, through +sodden, sunless forests and trackless wastes we had to abandon our +mules and take to our feet, spend weeks on nameless rivers, poling +and paddling our canoe in the terrible heat, and tormented almost +to madness by countless insects. Then the rains came on, and we +were weather-stayed for months in a wretched Indian village. But +for the help of friendly aborigines—and fortunately the few +we met, being spoken fair showed themselves friendly—we must +all have perished. They gave us food, lent us canoes, served us as +pilots and guides, and thought themselves well paid with a piece of +scarlet cloth or a handful of glass beads.</p> +<p>My men turned out quite as ill as I had been led to expect. +Several deserted at the outset, two or three died of fever, two +were eaten by alligators, and when we first caught sight of the +Andes, Gahra was my sole companion.</p> +<p>We were in a pitiful plight. I was weak from the effects of a +fever, Gahra lame from the effects of an accident. My money was +nearly all gone, my baggage had been lost by the upsetting of a +canoe, and our worldly goods consisted of two sorry mules, our +arms, the ragged clothes on our backs, and a few pieces of silver. +How we were to cross the Andes, and what we should do when we +reached Peru was by no means clear. As yet, the fortune which I had +set out to seek seemed further off than ever. We had found neither +gold nor silver nor precious stones, and all the coin I had in my +waist-belt would not cover the cost of a three days’ sojourn +at the most modest of <em>posaderos</em>.</p> +<p>But we have left behind us the sombre and rain-saturated forests +of the Amazon and the Orinoco, and the fine country around us and +the magnificent prospect before us made me, at least, forget for +the moment both our past privations and our present anxieties. We +are on the <em>montaña</em> of the eastern Cordillera, a +mountain land of amazing fertility, well wooded, yet not so thickly +as to render progress difficult; the wayside is bordered with +brilliant flowers, cascades tumble from rocky heights, and far away +to the west rise in the clear air the glorious Andes, alps on alps, +a vast range of stately snow-crowned peaks, endless and solemn, +veiled yet not hidden by fleecy clouds, and as cold and mysterious +as winter stars looking down on a sleeping world.</p> +<p>For a long time I gaze entranced at the wondrous scene, and +should probably have gone on gazing had not Gahra reminded me that +the day was well-nigh spent and that we were still, according to +the last information received, some distance from the mission of +San Andrea de Huanaco, otherwise Valle Hermoso, or Happy +Valley.</p> +<p>One of our chief difficulties had been to find our way; maps we +had none, for the very sufficient reason that maps of the region we +had traversed did not at that time exist; our guides had not always +proved either competent or trustworthy, and I had only the vaguest +idea as to where we were. Of two things only was I certain, that we +were south of the equator and within sight of the Andes of Peru +(which at that time included the countries now known as Ecuador and +Bolivia).</p> +<p>A few days previously I had fallen in with an old half-caste +priest, from whom I had heard of the Mission of San Andrea de +Huanaco, and how to get there, and who drew for my guidance a rough +sketch of the route. The priest in charge, a certain Fray Ignacio, +a born Catalan, would, he felt sure, be glad to find me quarters +and give me every information in his power.</p> +<p>And so it proved. Had I been his own familiar friend Fray +Ignacio could not have welcomed me more warmly or treated me more +kindly. A European with news but little above a year old was a +perfect godsend to him. When he heard that I had served in his +native land and the Bourbons once more ruled in France and Spain, +he went into ecstasies of delight, took me into his house, and gave +me of his best.</p> +<p>San Andrea was well named Valle Hermoso. It was like an alpine +village set in a tropical garden. The mud houses were overgrown +with greenery, the rocks mantled with flowers, the nearer heights +crested with noble trees, whose great white trunks, as smooth and +round as the marble pillars of an eastern palace, were roofed with +domes of purple leaves.</p> +<p>Through the valley and between verdant banks and blooming +orchards meandered a silvery brook, either an affluent or a source +of one of the mighty streams which find their homes in the great +Atlantic.</p> +<p>The mission was a village of tame Indians, whose ancestors had +been “Christianized,” by Fray Ignacio’s Jesuit +predecessor. But the Jesuits had been expelled from South America +nearly half a century before. My host belonged to the order of St. +Francis. The spiritual guide, as well as the earthly providence of +his flock, he managed their affairs in this world and prepared them +for the next. And they seemed nothing loath. A more listless, +easy-going community than the Indians of the Happy Valley it were +difficult to imagine. The men did little but smoke, sleep, and +gamble. All the real work was done by the women, and even they took +care not to over-exert themselves. All were short-lived. The women +began to age at twenty, the men were old at twenty-five and +generally died about thirty, of general decay, said the priest. In +my opinion of pure laziness. Exertion is a condition of healthy +existence; and the most active are generally the longest lived.</p> +<p>Nevertheless, Fray Ignacio was content with his people. They +were docile and obedient, went regularly to church, had a great +capacity for listening patiently to long sermons, and if they died +young they got so much the sooner to heaven.</p> +<p>All the same, Fray Ignacio was not so free from care as might be +supposed. He had two anxieties. The Happy Valley was so far untrue +to its name as to be subject to earthquakes; but as none of a very +terrific character had occurred for a quarter of a century he was +beginning to hope that it would be spared any further visitations +for the remainder of his lifetime. A much more serious trouble were +the occasional visits of bands of wild Indians—<em>Indios +misterios</em>, he called them; what they called themselves he had +no idea. Neither had he any definite idea whence they came; from +the other side of the Cordilleras, some people thought. But they +neither pillaged nor murdered—except when they were resisted +or in drink, for which reason the father always kept his +<em>aguardiente</em> carefully hidden. Their worst propensity was a +passion for white girls. There were two or three <em>mestizo</em> +families in the village, some of whom were whiter, or rather, less +coppery than the others, and from these the <em>misterios</em> +would select and carry off the best-looking maidens; for what +purpose Fray Ignacio could not tell, but, as he feared, to +sacrifice to their gods.</p> +<p>When I heard that these troublesome visitors generally numbered +fewer than a score, I asked why, seeing that the valley contained +at least a hundred and fifty men capable of bearing arms, the +raiders were not resisted. On this the father smiled and answered, +that no earthly consideration would induce his tame Indians to +fight; it was so much easier to die. He could not even persuade the +<em>mestizoes</em> to migrate to a safer locality. It was easier to +be robbed of their children occasionally than to move their goods +and chattels and find another home.</p> +<p>I asked Fray Ignacio whether he thought these robbers of white +children were likely to pay him a visit soon.</p> +<p>“I am afraid they are,” he said. “It is nearly +two years since their last visit, and they only come in summer. +Why?”</p> +<p>“I have a curiosity to see these; and I think I could save +the children and give these wild fellows such a lesson that they +would trouble you no more—at any rate for a long time to +come.”</p> +<p>“I should be inexpressibly grateful. But how, +señor?”</p> +<p>Whereupon I disclosed my scheme. It was very simple; I proposed +to turn one of the most likely houses in the village into a small +fortress which might serve as a refuge for the children and which +Gahra and I would undertake to defend. We had two muskets and a +pair of double-barrelled pistols, and the priest possessed an old +blunderbuss, which I thought I could convert into a serviceable +weapon. In this way we should be able to shoot down four or five of +the <em>misterios</em> before any of them could get near us, and as +they had no firearms I felt sure that, after so warm a reception, +they would let us alone and go their way. The shooting would +demoralize them, and as we should not show ourselves they could not +know that the garrison consisted only of the negro and myself.</p> +<p>“Very well,” said the priest, after a moment’s +thought. “I leave it to you. But remember that if you fail +they will kill you and everybody else in the place. However, I dare +say you will succeed, the firearms may frighten them, and, on the +whole, I think the risk is worth running!”</p> +<p>The next question was how to get timely warning of the +enemy’s approach. I suggested posting scouts on the hills +which commanded the roads into the valley. I thought that, albeit +the tame Indians were good for nothing else, they could at least +sit under a tree and keep their eyes open.</p> +<p>“They would fall asleep,” said Fray Ignacio.</p> +<p>So we decided to keep a lookout among ourselves, and ask the +girls who tended the cattle to do the same. They were much more +wide-awake than the men, if the latter could be said to be awake at +all.</p> +<p>The next thing was to fortify the priest’s house, which +seemed the most suitable for our purpose. I strengthened the wall +with stays, repaired the old <em>trabuco</em>, which was almost as +big as a small cannon, and made ready for barricading the doors and +windows on the first alarm.</p> +<p>This done, there was nothing for it but to wait with what +patience I might, and kill time as I best could. I walked about, +fished in the river, and talked with Fray Ignacio. I would have +gone out shooting, for there was plenty of game in the +neighborhood, only that I had to reserve my ammunition for more +serious work.</p> +<p>For the present, at least, my idea of exploring the Andes +appeared to be quite out of the question. I should require both +mules and guides, and I had no money either to buy the one or to +pay the other.</p> +<p>And so the days went monotonously on until it seemed as if I +should have to remain in this valley surnamed Happy for the term of +my natural life, and I grew so weary withal that I should have +regarded a big earthquake as a positive god-send. I was in this +mood, and ready for any enterprise, however desperate, when one +morning a young woman who had been driving cattle to an upland +pasture, came running to Fray Ignacio to say that she had seen a +troop of horsemen coming down from the mountains.</p> +<p>“The <em>misterios</em>!” said the priest, turning +pale. “Are you still resolved, señor?”</p> +<p>“Certainly,” I answered, trying to look grave, +though really greatly delighted. “Be good enough to send for +the girls who are most in danger. Gahra and I will take possession +of the house, and do all that is needful.”</p> +<p>It was further arranged that Fray Ignacio should remain outside +with his tame Indians, and tell the <em>misterios</em> that all the +good-looking <em>mestiza</em>, maidens were in his house, guarded +by braves from over the seas, who would strike dead with lightning +anybody who attempted to lay hands on them.</p> +<p>By the time our preparations were completed, and the frightened +and weeping girls shut up in an inner room, the wild Indians were +at the upper end of the big, straggling village, and presently +entered a wide, open space between the ramshackle old church and +Ignacio’s house. The party consisted of fifteen or sixteen +warriors mounted on small horses. All rode bare-back, were naked to +the waist, and armed with bows and arrows and the longest spears I +had yet seen.</p> +<p>The tame Indians looked stolidly on. Nothing short of an +earthquake would have disturbed their self-possession. Rather to my +surprise, for he had not so far shown a super-abundance of courage, +Fray Ignacio seemed equal to the occasion. He was tall, portly, and +white-haired, and as he stood at the church door, clad in his +priestly robes, he looked venerable and dignified.</p> +<p>One of the <em>misterios</em>, whom from his remarkable +head-dress—a helmet made of a condor’s skull—I +took to be a cacique, after greeting the priest, entered into +conversation with him, the purport of which I had no difficulty in +guessing, for the Indian, laughing loudly, turned to his companions +and said something that appeared greatly to amuse them. Neither he +nor they believed Fray Ignacio’s story of the great pale-face +chief and his death-dealing powers.</p> +<p>The cacique, followed by a few of his men, then rode leisurely +toward the house. He was a fine-looking fellow, with cigar-colored +skin and features unmistakably more Spanish than Indian.</p> +<p>My original idea was to shoot the first two of them, and so +strike terror into the rest. But the cacique bore himself so +bravely that I felt reluctant to kill him in cold blood; and, +thinking that killing his horse might do as well, I waited until +they were well within range, and, taking careful aim, shot it +through the head. As the horse went down, the cacique sprang nimbly +to his feet; he seemed neither surprised nor dismayed, took a long +look at the house, then waved his men back, and followed them +leisurely to the other side of the square.</p> +<p>“What think you, Gahra? Will they go away and leave us in +peace, or shall we have to shoot some of them?” I said as I +reloaded my musket.</p> +<p>“I think we shall, señor. That tall man whose horse +you shot did not seem much frightened.”</p> +<p>“Anything but that, and—what are they about +now?”</p> +<p>The wild Indians, directed by their chief, were driving the tame +Indians together, pretty much as sheep-dogs drive sheep, and soon +had them penned into a compact mass in an angle formed by the +church and another building. Although the crowd numbered two or +three hundred, of whom a third were men, no resistance was offered. +A few of exceptionally energetic character made a languid attempt +to bolt, but were speedily brought back by the <em>misterios</em>, +whose long spears they treated with profound respect.</p> +<p>So soon as this operation was completed the cacique beckoned +peremptorily to the <em>padre</em>, and the two, talking earnestly +the while, came toward the house. It seemed as if the Indian chief +wanted a parley; but, not being quite sure of this, I thought it +advisable, when he was about fifty yards off, to show him the +muzzle of my piece. The hint was understood. He laid his weapons on +the ground, and, when he and the padre were within speaking +distance, the <em>padre</em>, who appeared very much disturbed, +said the cacique desired to have speech of me. Not to be outdone in +magnanimity I opened the door and stepped outside.</p> +<p>The cacique doffed his skull-helmet and made a low bow. I +returned the greeting, said I was delighted to make his +acquaintance, and asked what I could do to oblige him.</p> +<p>“Give up the maidens,” he answered, in broken +Spanish.</p> +<p>“I cannot; they are in my charge. I have sworn to protect +them, and, as you discovered just now, I have the means of making +good my word.”</p> +<p>“It is true. You have lightning; I have none, and I shall +not sacrifice my braves in a vain attempt to take the maidens by +force. Nevertheless, you will give them up.”</p> +<p>“You are mistaken. I shall not give them up.”</p> +<p>“The great pale-face chief is a friend of these poor tame +people; he wishes them well?”</p> +<p>“It is true, and for that reason I shall not let you carry +off the seven maidens.”</p> +<p>“Seven?”</p> +<p>“Yes, seven.”</p> +<p>“How many men and women and maidens are there yonder, +trembling before the spears of my braves like corn shaken by the +wind—fifty times seven?”</p> +<p>“Probably.”</p> +<p>“Then my brother—for I also am a great +chief—my brother from over the seas holds the liberty of +seven to be of more account than the lives of fifty times +seven.”</p> +<p>“My brother speaks in riddles,” I said, +acknowledging the cacique’s compliment and adopting his +style.</p> +<p>“It is a riddle that a child might read. Unless the +maidens are given up—not to harm, but to be taken to our +country up there—unless they are given up the spears of my +braves will drink the blood of their kinsfolk, and my horses shall +trample their bodies in the dust.”</p> +<p>The cacique spoke so gravely and his air was so resolute that I +felt sure he would do as he said, and I did not see how I could +prevent him. His men were beyond the range of our pieces, and to go +outside were to lose our lives to no purpose. We might get a couple +of shots at them, but, before we could reload, they would either +shoot us down with their bows or spit us with their spears.</p> +<p>Fray Ignacio, seeing the dilemma, drew me aside.</p> +<p>“You will have to do it,” he said. “I am very +sorry. The girls will either be sacrificed or brought up as +heathens; but better so than that these devils should be let loose +on my poor people, for, albeit some might escape, many would be +slaughtered. Why did you shoot the horse and let the savage and his +companion go scathless?”</p> +<p>“You may well ask the question, father. I see what a +grievous mistake I made. When it came to the point, I did not like +to kill brave men in cold blood. I was too merciful.”</p> +<p>“As you say, a grievous mistake. Never repeat it, +señor. It is always a mistake to show mercy to <em>Indios +brutos</em>. But what will you do?”</p> +<p>“I suppose give up the girls; it is the smaller evil of +the two. And yet—I promised that no evil should befall +them—no, I must make another effort.”</p> +<p>And with that I turned once more to the cacique.</p> +<p>“Do you know,” I said, laying my hand on the pistol +in my belt—“do you know that your life is in my +hands?”</p> +<p>He did not flinch; but a look passed over his face which showed +that my implied threat had produced an effect.</p> +<p>“It is true; but if a hair of my head be touched, all +these people will perish.”</p> +<p>“Let them perish! What are the lives of a few tame Indians +to me, compared with my oath? Did I not tell you that I had sworn +to protect the maidens—that no harm should befall them? And +unless you call your men off and promise to go quietly +away—” Here I drew my pistol.</p> +<p>It was now the cacique’s turn to hesitate. After a +moment’s thought he answered:</p> +<p>“Let the lightning kill me, then. It were better for me to +die than to return to my people empty-handed; and my death will not +be unavenged. But if the pale-face chief will go with us instead of +the maidens, he will make Gondocori his friend, and these tame +Indians shall not die.”</p> +<p>“Go with you! But whither?”</p> +<p>Gondocori pointed toward the Cordillera.</p> +<p>“To our home up yonder, in the heart of the +Andes.”</p> +<p>“And what will you do with me when you get me +there?”</p> +<p>“Your fate will be decided by Mamcuna, our queen. If you +find favor in her sight, well.”</p> +<p>“And if not—?”</p> +<p>“Then it would not be well—for you. But as she has +often expressed a wish to see a pale-face with a long beard, I +think it will be well; and in any case I answer for your +life.”</p> +<p>“What security have I for this? How do I know that when I +am in your power you will carry out the compact?”</p> +<p>“You have heard the word of Gondocori. See, I will swear +it on the emblem you most respect.”</p> +<p>And the cacique pressed his lips to the cross which hung from +Ignacio’s neck. It was a strange act on the part of a wild +Indian, and confirmed the suspicion I already entertained, that +Condocori was the son of a Christian mother.</p> +<p>“He is a heathen; his oath is worthless; don’t trust +him, let the girls go,” whispered the padre in my ear.</p> +<p>But I had already made up my mind. It was on my conscience to +keep faith with the girls; I wanted neither to kill the cacique nor +see his men kill the tame Indians, and whatever might befall me +“up yonder” I should at any rate get away from San +Andrea de Huanaco.</p> +<p>“The die is cast; I will go with you,” I said, +turning to Gondocori.</p> +<p>“Now, I know, beyond a doubt, that my brother is the +bravest of the brave. He fears not the unknown.”</p> +<p>I asked if Gahra might bear me company.</p> +<p>“At his own risk. But I cannot answer for his safety. +Mamcuna loves not black people.”</p> +<p>This was not very encouraging, and after I had explained the +matter to Gahra I strongly advised him to stay where he was. But he +said he was my man, that he owed me his liberty, and would go with +me to the end, even though it should cost him his life.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XXI" id="Ch_XXI">Chapter XXI.</a></h3> +<h2>A Fight for Life.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>We have left behind us the <em>montaño</em>, with its +verdant uplands and waving forests, its blooming valleys, +flower-strewed savannas, and sunny waters, and are crawling +painfully along a ledge, hardly a yard wide, stern gray rocks all +round us, a foaming torrent only faintly visible in the prevailing +gloom a thousand feet below. Our mules, obtained at the last +village in the fertile region, move at the speed of snails, for the +path is slippery and insecure, and one false step would mean death +for both the rider and the ridden,</p> +<p>Presently the gorge widens into a glen, where forlorn flowers +struggle toward the scanty light and stunted trees find a +precarious foothold among the rocks and stones. Soon the ravine +narrows again, narrows until it becomes a mere cleft; the mule-path +goes up and down like some mighty snake, now mounting to a dizzy +height, anon descending to the bed of the thundering torrent. The +air is dull and sepulchral, an icy wind blows in our faces, and +though I am warmly clad, and wrapped besides in a thick +<em>poncho</em>, I shiver to the bone.</p> +<p>At length we emerge from this valley of the shadow of death, and +after crossing an arid yet not quite treeless plain, begin to climb +by many zigzags an almost precipitous height. The mules suffer +terribly, stopping every few minutes to take breath, and it is with +a feeling of intense relief that, after an ascent of two hours, we +find ourselves on the <em>cumbre</em>, or ridge of the +mountain.</p> +<p>For the first time since yesterday we have an unobstructed view. +I dismount and look round. Backward stretches an endless expanse of +bleak and stormy-swept billowy mountains; before us looms, in +serried phalanx, the western Cordillera, dazzling white, all save +one black-throated colossus, who vomits skyward thick clouds of +ashes and smoke, and down whose ragged flanks course streams of +fiery lava.</p> +<p>After watching this stupendous spectacle for a few minutes we go +on, and shortly reach another and still loftier <em>quebrada</em>. +Icicles hang from the rocks, the pools of the streams are frozen; +we have reached an altitude as high as the summit of Mont Blanc, +and our distended lips, swollen hands, and throbbing temples show +how great is the rarefaction of the air.</p> +<p>None of us suffer so much from the cold as poor Gahra. His ebon +skin has turned ashen gray, he shivers continually, can hardly +speak, and sits on his mule with difficulty.</p> +<p>The country we are in is uninhabited and the trail we are +following known only to a few Indians. I am the first white man, +says Gondocori, by whom it has been trodden.</p> +<p>We pass the night in a ruined building of cyclopean dimensions, +erected no doubt in the time of the Incas, either for the +accommodation of travellers by whom the road was then frequented or +for purposes of defence. But being both roofless, windowless, and +fireless, it makes only a poor lodging. The icy wind blows through +a hundred crevices; my limbs are frozen stiff, and when morning +comes many of us look more dead than alive.</p> +<p>I asked Condocori how the poor girls of San Andrea could +possibly have survived so severe a journey.</p> +<p>“The weaker would have died. But I did not expect this +cold. The winter is beginning unusually early this year. Had we +been a few days later we should not have got through at all, and if +it begins to snow it may go ill with us, even yet. But to-morrow +the worst will be over.”</p> +<p>The cacique had so far behaved very well, treating me as a +friend and an equal, and doing all he could for my comfort. His men +treated me as a superior. Gondocori said very little about his +country, still less about Queen Mamcuna, whom he also called +“Great Mother.” To my frequent questions on these +subjects he made always the same answer: “Patience, you will +see.”</p> +<p>He did, however, tell me that his people called their country +Pachatupec and themselves Pachatupecs, that the Spaniards had never +subdued them or even penetrated into the fastnesses where they +dwelt, and that they spoke the ancient language of Peru.</p> +<p>Gondocori admitted that his mother was a Christian, and to her +he no doubt owed his notions of religion and the regularity of his +features. She had been carried off as he meant to carry off the +seven maidens of the Happy Valley, for the <em>misterios</em> had a +theory that a mixture of white and Indian blood made the finest +children and the boldest warriors. But white wives being difficult +to obtain, <em>mestiza</em> maidens had generally to be accepted, +or rather, taken in their stead.</p> +<p>We rose before daybreak and were in the saddle at dawn. The +ground and the streams are hard frozen, and the path is so slippery +that the trembling mules dare scarcely put one foot before the +other, and our progress is painfully slow. We are in a broad, +stone-strewed valley, partly covered with withered puma-grass, on +which a flock of graceful <em>vicuñas</em> are quietly +grazing, as seemingly unconscious of our presence as the great +condors which soar above the snowy peaks that look down on the +plain.</p> +<p>As we leave the valley, through a pass no wider than a gateway, +the cacique gives me a word of warning.</p> +<p>“The part we are coming to is the most dangerous of +all,” he said. “But it is, fortunately, not long. Two +hours will bring us to a sheltered valley. And now leave everything +to your mule. If you feel nervous shut your eyes, but as you value +your life neither tighten your reins nor try to guide +him.”</p> +<p>I repeat this caution to Gahra, and ask how he feels.</p> +<p>“Much better, señor; the sunshine has given me new +life. I feel equal to anything.”</p> +<p>And now we have to travel once more in single file, for the path +runs along a mountain spur almost as perpendicular as a wall; we +are between two precipices, down which even the boldest cannot look +without a shudder. The incline, moreover, is rapid, and from time +to time we come to places where the ridge is so broken and insecure +that we have to dismount, let our mules go first, and creep after +them on our hands.</p> +<p>At the head of the file is an Indian who rides the +<em>madrina</em> (a mare) and acts as guide, next come Gondocori, +myself and Gahra, followed by the other mounted Indians, three or +four baggage-mules, and two men on foot.</p> +<p>We have been going thus nearly an hour, when a sudden and +portentous change sets in. Murky clouds gather round the higher +summits and shut out the sun, a thick mist settles down on the +ridge, and in a few minutes we are folded in a gloom hardly less +dense than midnight darkness.</p> +<p>“Halt!” shouts the guide.</p> +<p>“What shall we do?” I ask the cacique, whom, though +he is but two yards from me, I cannot see.</p> +<p>“Nothing. We can only wait here till the mist clears +away,” he shouts in a muffled voice.</p> +<p>“And how soon may that be?”</p> +<p>“<em>Quien Sabe?</em> Perhaps a few minutes, perhaps +hours.”</p> +<p>Hours! To stand for hours, even for one hour, immovable in that +mist on that ridge would be death. Since the sun disappeared the +cold had become keener than ever. The blood seems to be freezing in +my veins, my beard is a block of ice, icicles are forming on my +eyelids.</p> +<p>If this goes on—a gleam of light! Thank Heaven, the mist +is lifting, just enough to enable me to see Gondocori and the +guide. They are quite white. It is snowing, yet so softly as not to +be felt, and as the fog melts the flakes fall faster.</p> +<p>“Let us go on,” says Gondocori. “Better roll +down the precipice than be frozen to death. And if we stop here +much longer, and the snow continues, the pass beyond will be +blocked, and then we must die of hunger and cold, for there is no +going back.”</p> +<p>So we move on, slowly and noiselessly, amid the fast-falling +snow, like a company of ghosts, every man conscious that his life +depends on the sagacity and sure-footedness of his mule. And it is +wonderful how wary the creatures are. They literally feel their +way, never putting one foot forward until the other is firmly +planted. But the snow confuses them. More than once my mule slips +dangerously, and I am debating within myself whether I should not +be safer on foot, when I hear a cry in front.</p> +<p>“What is it?” I ask Gondocori, for I cannot see past +him.</p> +<p>“The guide is gone. The <em>madrina</em> slipped, and both +have rolled down the precipice.”</p> +<p>“Shall we get off and walk?”</p> +<p>“If you like. You will not be any safer, though you may +feel so. The mules are surer footed than we are, and they have four +legs to our two. I shall keep where I am.”</p> +<p>Not caring to show myself less courageous than the +<em>cacique</em>, I also keep where I am. We get down the ridge +somehow without further mishaps, and after a while find ourselves +in a funnel-shaped gully the passage of which, in ordinary +circumstances, would probably present no difficulty. But just now +it is a veritable battle-field of the winds, which seem to blow +from every point of the compass at once. The snow dashes against +our faces like spray from the ocean, and whirls round us in blasts +so fierce that, at times, we can neither see nor hear. The mules, +terrified and exhausted, put down their heads and stand +stock-still. We dismount and try to drag them after us, but even +then they refuse to move.</p> +<p>“If they won’t come they must die; and unless we +hurry on we shall die, too. Forward!” cried Gondocori, +himself setting the example.</p> +<p>Never did I battle so hard for very life as in that gully. The +snow nearly blinded me, the wind took my breath away, forced me +backward, and beat me to the earth again and again. More than once +it seemed as if we should have to succumb, and then there would +come a momentary lull and we would make another rush and gain a +little more ground.</p> +<p>Amid all the hurly-burly, though I cannot think consecutively +(all the strength of my body and every faculty of my mind being +absorbed in the struggle), I have one fixed idea—not to lose +sight of Gondocori, and, except once or twice for a few seconds, I +never did. Where he goes I go, and when, after an unusually severe +buffeting, he plunges into a snow-drift at the end of the ravine, I +follow him without hesitation.</p> +<p>Side by side we fought our way through, dashing the snow aside +with our hands, pushing against it with our shoulders, beating it +down with our feet, and after a desperate struggle, which though it +appeared endless could have lasted only a few minutes, the victory +was ours; we were free.</p> +<p>I can hardly believe my eyes. The sun is visible, the sky clear +and blue, and below us stretches a grassy slope like a Swiss +“alp.” Save for the turmoil of wind behind us and our +dripping garments I could believe that I had just wakened from a +bad dream, so startling is the change. The explanation is, however, +sufficiently simple: the area of the <em>tourmente</em> is +circumscribed and we have got out of it, the gully merely a passage +between the two mighty ramparts of rock which mark the limits of +the tempest and now protect us from its fury.</p> +<p>“But where are the others?”</p> +<p>Up to that moment I had not given them a thought. While the +struggle lasted thinking had not been possible. After we abandoned +the mules I had eyes only for Gondocori, and never once looked +behind me.</p> +<p>“Where are the others?” I asked the +<em>cacique</em>.</p> +<p>“Smothered in the snow; two minutes more and we also +should have been smothered.”</p> +<p>“Let us go back and see. They may still live.”</p> +<p>“Impossible! We could not get back if we had ten times the +strength and were ten instead of two. Listen!”</p> +<p>The roar of the storm in the gully is louder than ever; the +drift, now higher than the tallest man, grows even as we look.</p> +<p>Fifteen men buried alive within a few yards of us, yet beyond +the possibility of help! Poor Gahra! If he had loved me less and +himself more, he would still be enjoying the <em>dolce far +niente</em> of Happy Valley, instead of lying there, stark and +stiff in his frozen winding-sheet. A word of encouragement, a +helping hand at the last moment, and he might have got through. I +feel as if I had deserted him in his need; my conscience reproaches +me bitterly. And yet—good God! What is that? A black hand in +the snow!</p> +<p>“With a single bound I am there. Gondocori follows, and as +I seize one hand he finds and grasps the other, and we pull out of +the drift the negro’s apparently lifeless body.</p> +<p>“He is dead,” says the <em>cacique</em>.</p> +<p>“I don’t think so. Raise him up, and let the sun +shine on him.”</p> +<p>I take out my pocket-flask and pour a few drops of +<em>aguardiente</em> down his throat. Presently Gahra sighs and +opens his eyes, and a few minutes later is able to stand up and +walk about. He can tell very little of what passed in the gully. He +had followed Gondocori and myself, and was not far behind us. He +remembered plunging into the snow-drift and struggling on until he +fell on his face, and then all was a blank. None of the Indians +were with him in the drift; he felt sure they were all behind him, +which was likely enough, as Gahra, though sensitive to cold, was a +man of exceptional bodily strength. It was beyond a doubt that all +had perished.</p> +<p>“I left Pachatupec with fifteen braves. I have lost my +braves, my mules, and my baggage, and all I have to show are two +men, a pale-face and a black-face. Not a single maiden. How will +Mamcuna take it, I wonder?” said Gondocari, gloomily. +“Let us go on.”</p> +<p>“You think she will be very angry?”</p> +<p>“I do.”</p> +<p>“Is she very unpleasant when she is angry?”</p> +<p>“She generally makes it very unpleasant for others. Her +favorite punishment for offenders is roasting them before a slow +fire.”</p> +<p>“And yet you propose to go on?”</p> +<p>“What else can we do? Going back the way we came is out of +the question, equally so is climbing either of those +mountain-ranges. If we stay hereabout we shall starve. We have not +a morsel of food, and until we reach Pachatupec we shall get +none.”</p> +<p>“And when may that be?”</p> +<p>“By this time to-morrow.”</p> +<p>“Well, let us go on, then; though, as between being +starved to death and roasted alive, there is not much to choose. +All the same, I should like to see this wonderful queen of whom you +are so much afraid.”</p> +<p>“You would be afraid of her, too, and very likely will be +before you have done with her. Nevertheless, you may find favor in +her sight, and I have just bethought me of a scheme which, if you +consent to adopt it, may not only save our lives, but bring you +great honor.”</p> +<p>“And what is that scheme, Gondocori?”</p> +<p>“I will explain it later. This is no time for talk. We +must push on with all speed or we shall not get to the boats before +nightfall.”</p> +<p>“Boats! You surely don’t mean to say that we are to +travel to Pachatupec by boats. Boats cannot float on a frozen +mountain torrent!”</p> +<p>But the cacique, who was already on the march, made no +answer.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XXII" id="Ch_XXII">Chapter XXII.</a></h3> +<h2>The Cacique’s Scheme.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Shortly before sunset we arrived at our halting-place for the +night and point of departure for the morrow—a hollow in the +hills, hemmed in by high rocks, almost circular in shape and about +a quarter of a mile in diameter. The air was motionless and the +temperature mild, the ground covered with grass and shrubs and +flowers, over which hovered clouds of bright-winged butterflies. +Low down in the hollow was a still and silent pool, and though, so +far as I could make out, it had no exit, two large flat-bottomed +boats and a couple of canoes were made fast to the side. Hard by +was a hut of sun-dried bricks, in which were slung three or four +grass hammocks.</p> +<p>There was also fuel, so we were able to make a fire and have a +good warming, of which we stood greatly in need. But as nothing in +the shape of food could be found, either on the premises or in the +neighborhood, we had to go supperless to bed.</p> +<p>Before we turned in Gondocori let us into the secret of the +scheme which was to propitiate Queen Mamcuna, and bring us honor +and renown, instead of blame and (possibly) death.</p> +<p>“I shall tell her,” said the cacique, “that +though I have lost my braves and brought no maidens, I have brought +two famous medicine-men, who come from over the seas.”</p> +<p>“Very good. But how are we to keep up the +character?”</p> +<p>“You must profess your ability to heal the sick and read +the stars.”</p> +<p>“Nothing easier. But suppose we are put to the test? Are +there any sick in your country?”</p> +<p>“A few; Mamcuna herself is sick; you have only to cure her +and all will be well.”</p> +<p>“Very likely; but how if I fail?”</p> +<p>“Then she would make it unpleasant for all of +us.”</p> +<p>“You mean she would roast us by a slow fire?”</p> +<p>“Probably. There is no telling, though. Our Great Mother +is very ingenious in inventing new punishments, and to those who +deceive her she shows no mercy.”</p> +<p>“I understand. It is a case of kill or cure.”</p> +<p>“Exactly. If you don’t cure her she will kill +you.”</p> +<p>“I will do my best, and as I have seen a good deal of +practical surgery, helped to dress wounds and set broken limbs, and +can let blood, you may truthfully say that I have some slight +knowledge of the healing art. But as for treating a sick +woman—However, I leave it to you, Gondocori. If you choose to +introduce me to her Majesty as a medicine-man I will act the part +to the best of my ability.”</p> +<p>“I ask no more, señor; and if you are fortunate +enough to cure Mamcuna of her sickness—”</p> +<p>“Or make her believe that I have cured her.”</p> +<p>“That would do quite as well; you will thank me for +bringing you to Pachatupec, for although the queen can make things +very unpleasant for those who offend her, she can also make them +very pleasant for those whom she likes. And now, señores, as +we must to-morrow travel a long way fasting, let us turn into our +hammocks and compose ourselves to sleep.”</p> +<p>Excellent advice, which I was only too glad to follow. But we +were awake long before daylight—for albeit fatigue often acts +as an anodyne, hunger is the enemy of repose—and at the first +streak of dawn wended to the silent pool.</p> +<p>As we stepped into the canoe selected by Gondocori (the boats +were intended for the transport of mules and horses) I found that +the water was warm, and, on tasting it, I perceived a strong +mineral flavor. The pool was a thermal spring, and its high +temperature fully accounted for the fertility of the hollow and the +mildness of the air. But how were we to get out of it? For look as +I might, I could see no signs either of an outlet or a current. +Gondocori, who acted as pilot, quickly solved the mystery. A +buttress of rock, which in the distance looked like a part of the +mass, screened the entrance to a narrow waterway. Down this +waterway the cacique navigated the canoe. It ran in tortuous course +between rocks so high that at times we could see nothing save a +strip of purple sky, studded with stars. Here and there the channel +widened out, and we caught a glimpse of the sun; and at an +immeasurable height above us towered the <em>nevados</em> (snowy +slopes) of the Cordillera.</p> +<p>The stream, if that can be called a stream which does not move, +had many branches, and we could well believe, as Gondocori told us, +that it was as easy to lose one’s self in this watery +labyrinth as in a tropical forest. In all Pachatupec there were not +ten men besides himself who could pilot a boat through its +windings. He told us, also, that this was the only pass between the +eastern and western Cordillera in that part of the Andes, that the +journey from San Andrea to Pachatupec by any other route would be +an affair not of days but of weeks. The water was always warm and +never froze. Whence it came nobody could tell. Not from the melting +of the snow, for snow-water was cold, and this was always warm, +winter and summer. For his own part he thought its source was a +spring, heated by volcanic fires, and many others thought the same. +Its depth was unknown; he himself had tried to fathom it with the +longest line he could find, yet had never succeeded in touching +ground.</p> +<p>Meanwhile we were making good progress, sometimes paddling, +sometimes poling (where the channel was narrow) and toward evening +when, as I reckoned, we had travelled about sixty miles, we shot +suddenly into a charming little lake with sylvan banks and a sandy +beach.</p> +<p>Gondocori made fast the canoe to a tree, and we stepped +ashore.</p> +<p>We are on the summit of a spur which stands out like a bastion +from the imposing mass of the Cordillera, through the very heart of +which runs the mysterious waterway we have just traversed. Two +thousand feet or more below is a broad plain, bounded on the west +by a range of gaunt and treeless hills ribbed with contorted rocks, +which stretch north and south farther than the eye can reach. The +plain is cultivated and inhabited. There are huts, fields, +orchards, and streams, and about a league from the foot of the +bastion is a large village.</p> +<p>“Pachatupec?” I asked.</p> +<p>“<em>Si, señor</em>, that is Pachatupec, a very +fair land, as you see, and yonder is Pachacamac, where dwells our +queen,” said Gondocori, pointing to the village; and then he +fell into a brown study, as if he was not quite sure what to do +next.</p> +<p>The sight of his home did not seem to rejoice the cacique as +much as might be supposed. The approaching interview with Mamcuna +was obviously weighing heavily on his soul, and, to tell the truth, +I rather shared his apprehensions. A savage queen with a sharp +temper who occasionally roasted people alive was not to be trifled +with. But as delay was not likely to help us, and I detest +suspense, and, moreover, felt very hungry, I suggested that we had +better go on to Pachacamac forthwith.</p> +<p>“Perhaps we had. Yes, let us get it over,” he said, +with a sigh.</p> +<p>After descending the bastion by a steep zigzag we turned into a +pleasant foot-path, shaded by trees, and as we neared our +destination we met (among other people) two tall Indians, whose +condor-skull helmets denoted their lordly rank. On recognizing +Gondocori (who had lost his helmet in the snow-storm and looked +otherwise much dilapidated) their surprise was literally +unspeakable. They first stared and then gesticulated. When at +length they found their tongues they overwhelmed him with +questions, eying Gahra and me the while as if we were wild animals. +After a short conversation, of which, being in their own language, +I could only guess the purport, the two caciques turned back and +accompanied us to the village. Save that there was no sign of a +church, it differed little from many other villages which I had met +with in my travels. There were huts, mere roofs on stilts, cottages +of wattle and dab, and flat-roofed houses built of sun-dried +bricks. Streets, there were none, the buildings being all over the +place, as if they dropped from the sky or sprung up hap-hazard from +the ground.</p> +<p>About midway in the village one of the caciques left us to +inform the queen of our arrival and to ask her pleasure as to my +reception. The other cacique asked us into his house, and offered +us refreshments. Of what the dishes set before us were composed I +had only the vaguest idea, but hunger is not fastidious and we ate +with a will.</p> +<p>We had hardly finished when cacique number one, entering in +breathless haste, announced that Queen Mumcuna desired to see us +immediately, whereupon I suggested to Gondocori the expediency of +donning more courtly attire, if there was any to be got.</p> +<p>“What, keep the queen waiting!” he exclaimed, +aghast. “She would go mad. Impossible! We must go as we +are.”</p> +<p>Not wanting her majesty to go mad, I made no further demur, and +we went.</p> +<p>The palace was a large adobe building within a walled inclosure, +guarded by a company of braves with long spears. We were ushered +into the royal presence without either ceremony or delay. The queen +was sitting in a hammock with her feet resting on the ground. She +wore a bright-colored, loosely-fitting bodice, a skirt to match, +and sandals. Her long black hair was arranged in tails, of which +there were seven on each side of her face. She was short and stout, +and perhaps thirty years old, and though in early youth she might +have been well favored, her countenance now bore the impress of +evil passions, and the sodden look of it, as also the blood-streaks +in her eyes, showed that her drink was not always water. At the +same time, it was a powerful face, indicative of a strong character +and a resolute will. Her complexion was bright cinnamon, and the +three or four women by whom she was attended were costumed like +herself.</p> +<p>On entering the room the three caciques went on their knees, and +after a moment’s hesitation Gahra followed their example. I +thought it quite enough to make my best bow. Mamcuna then motioned +us to draw nearer, and when we were within easy speaking distance +she said something to Gondocori that sounded like a question or a +command, on which he made a long and, as I judged from the vigor of +his gesture and the earnestness of his manner, an eloquent speech. +I watched her closely and was glad to see that though she frowned +once or twice during its delivery, she did not seem very angry. I +also observed that she looked at me much more than at the cacique, +which I took to be a favorable sign. The speech was followed by a +lively dialogue between Mamcuna and the cacique, after which the +latter turned to me and said, as coolly as if he were asking me to +be seated:</p> +<p>“The queen commands you to strip.”</p> +<p>“Commands me to strip! What do you mean?”</p> +<p>“What I say; you have to strip—undress, take off +your clothes.”</p> +<p>“You are joking.”</p> +<p>“Joking! I should like to see the man who would dare to +take such a liberty in the audience-chamber of our Great Mother. +Pray don’t make words about it, señor. Take off your +clothes without any more bother, or she will be getting +angry.”</p> +<p>“Let her get angry. I shall do nothing of the +sort—No, don’t say that; say that English +gentlemen—I mean pale-face medicine-men from over the seas, +never undress in the presence of ladies; their religion forbids +it.”</p> +<p>Gondocori was about to remonstrate again when the queen +interposed and insisted on knowing what I said. When she heard that +I refused to obey her behest she turned purple with rage, and +looked as if she would annihilate me. Then her mood, or her mind, +changing, she laughed loudly, at the same time pointing to the door +and making an observation to the cacique.</p> +<p>Having meanwhile reflected that I was not in an English +drawing-room, that this wretched woman could have me stripped +whether I would or no, and that refusal to comply with her wishes +might cost me my life, I asked Gondocori why the queen wanted me to +undress.</p> +<p>“She wants to see whether your body is as hairy as your +face (I had not shaved since I left Naperima), and your face as +fair as your body.”</p> +<p>“Will it satisfy her if I meet her half-way—strip to +the waist? You can say that I never did as much for any woman +before, and that I would not do it for the queen of my own country, +whatever might be the consequence.”</p> +<p>The cacique interpreted my proposal, and Mamcuna smiled assent. +“The queen says, ‘let it be as you say;’ and she +charges me to tell you that she is very much pleased to know that +you will do for her what you would not do for any other +woman.”</p> +<p>On that I took off my upper garments and Mamcuna, rising from +her hammock, examined me as closely as a military surgeon examines +a freshly caught recruit. She felt the muscles of my arms, thumped +my chest, took note of the width of my back, punched my ribs, and +finally pulled a few hairs out of my beard. Then, smiling approval, +she retired to her chinchura.</p> +<p>“You may put on your clothes; the inspection is +over,” said Gondocori. “I am glad it has passed off so +well. I was rather afraid, though, when she began to pinch +you.”</p> +<p>“Afraid of what?”</p> +<p>“Well, the queen is rather curious about skin and color +and that, and does curious things sometimes. She once had a strip +of skin cut out of a mestiza maiden’s back, to see whether it +was the same color on both sides. But she seems to have taken quite +a liking for you; says you are the prettiest man she ever saw; and +if you cure her of her illness I have no doubt she will give you a +condor’s skull helmet and make you a cacique.”</p> +<p>“I am greatly obliged to her Majesty, I am sure, and very +thankful she did not take a fancy to cut a piece out of my back. As +for curing her, I must first of all know what is the +matter.”</p> +<p>“Shall I ask her to describe her symptoms?”</p> +<p>“If you please.” In reply to the questions which I +put, through Gondocori, the queen said that she suffered from +headache, nausea, and sleeplessness, and that, whereas only a few +years ago she was lithe, active, and gay, she was now heavy, +indolent, and melancholy, adding that she had suffered much at the +hands of the late court medicine-man, who did not understand her +case at all, and that to punish him for his ignorance and +presumption she made him swallow a jarful of his own physic, from +the effects of which he shortly afterward expired in great agony. +The place was now vacant, and if I succeeded in restoring her to +health she would make me his successor and always have me near her +person.</p> +<p>I cannot say that I regarded this prospect as particularly +encouraging; nevertheless, I tried to look pleased and told +Gondocori to assure the queen of my gratitude and devotion and ask +her to show me her tongue. He put this request with evident +reluctance, and Mamcuna made an angry reply.</p> +<p>“I knew how it would be,” said the cacique. +“You have put her in a rage. She thinks you want to insult +her, and absolutely refuses to make herself hideous by sticking out +her tongue.”</p> +<p>“She will of course do as she pleases. But unless she +shows me her tongue I cannot cure her. I shall not even try. Tell +her so.”</p> +<p>To tell the truth I had really no great desire to look at the +woman’s tongue, but having made the request I meant to stand +to my guns.</p> +<p>After some further parley she yielded, first of all making the +three caciques and Gahra look the other way. The appearance of her +tongue confirmed the theory I had already formed that she was +suffering from dyspepsia, brought on by overeating and a too free +indulgence in the wine of the country (a sort of cider) and +indolent habits.</p> +<p>I said that if she would follow my instructions I had no doubt +that I could not only cure her but make her as lithe and active as +ever she was. Remembering, however, that as even the highly +civilized people object to be made whole without physic and fuss, +and that the queen would certainly not be satisfied with a simple +recommendation to take less food and more exercise, I observed that +before I could say anything further I must gather plants, make +decoctions, and consult the stars, and that my black colleague +should prepare a charm which would greatly increase the potency of +my remedies and the chances of her recovery.</p> +<p>Mamcuna answered that I talked like a medicine-man who +understood his business and her case, that she would strictly obey +my orders, and so soon as she felt better give me a condor’s +skull helmet. Meanwhile, I was to take up my quarters in her own +house, and she ordered the caciques to send me forthwith three +suits of clothes, my own, as she rightly remarked, not being +suitable for a man of my position.</p> +<p>“Now, did not I tell you?” said Gondocori, as we +left the room. “Oh, we are going on swimmingly; and it is all +my doing. I do believe that if I had not protested that you were +the greatest medicine-man in the world, and had come expressly to +cure her, she would have had you roasted or ripped up by the +man-killer or turned adrift in the desert, or something equally +diabolical. Your fate is in your own hands now. If you fail to make +good your promises, it will be out of my power to help you. You +heard how she treated your predecessor.”</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XXIII" id="Ch_XXIII">Chapter XXIII.</a></h3> +<h2>You are the Man.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Early next morning I sent Gahra secretly up to the lake on the +bastion for a jar of chalybeate water, which, after being colored +with red earth and flavored with wild garlic, was nauseous enough +to satisfy the most exacting of physic swallowers. Then the negro +sacrificed a cock in the royal presence, and performed an +incantation in the most approved African fashion, and we made the +creature’s claws and comb into an amulet, which I requested +the queen to hang round her neck.</p> +<p>This done, I gave my instructions, assuring her that if she +failed in any particular to observe them my efforts would be vain, +and her cure impossible. She was to drink nothing but water and +physic (of the latter very little), eat animal food only once a +day, and that sparingly, and walk two hours every morning; and +finding that she could ride on horseback (like a man), though she +had lately abandoned the exercise, I told her to ride two hours +every evening. I also laid down other rules, purposely making them +onerous and hard to be observed, partly because I knew that a +strict regimen was necessary for her recovery, partly to leave +myself a loop-hole, in the event of her not recovering, for I felt +pretty sure that she would not do all that I had bidden her, and if +she came short in any one thing I should have an excuse ready to my +hand.</p> +<p>But to my surprise she did not come short. For Mamcuna to give +up her cider and her flesh pots, and, flabby and fat as she was, to +walk and ride four hours every day, must have been very hard, yet +she conformed to regulations with rare resolution and self-denial. +As a natural consequence she soon began to mend, at first slowly +and almost imperceptibly, afterward rapidly and visibly, as much to +my satisfaction as hers; for if my treatment had failed, I could +not have said that the fault was hers.</p> +<p>Meanwhile I was picking up information about her people, and +acquiring a knowledge of their language, and as I was continually +hearing it spoken I was soon able to make myself understood.</p> +<p>The Pachatupecs, though heathens and savages, were more +civilized than any of the so-called <em>Indios civilizados</em> +with whom I had come in contact. They were clean as to their +persons, bathing frequently, and not filthy in their dwellings; +they raised crops, reared cattle, and wore clothing, which for the +caciques consisted of a tunic of quilted cotton, breeches loose at +the knees, and sandals. The latter virtue may, however, have been +due to the climate, for though the days were warm the nights were +chilly, and the winters at times rather severe, the country being +at a considerable height above the level of the sea. On the other +hand, the Pachatupecs were truculent, gluttonous, and not very +temperate; they practised polygamy, and all the hard work devolved +on the women, whose husbands often brutally ill-used them. It was +contrary to etiquette to ask a man questions about his wives, and +if you went to a cacique’s house you were expected either to +ignore their presence or treat them as slaves, as indeed they were, +and the condition of captive Christian girls was even worse than +that of the native women.</p> +<p>Considering the light esteem in which women were held I was +surprised that the Pachatupecs consented to be ruled by one of the +sex. But Gondocori told me that Mamcuna came of a long line of +princes who were supposed to be descended from the Incas, and when +her father died, leaving no male issue, a majority of the caciques +chose her as his successor, in part out of reverence for the race, +in part out of jealousy of each other, and because they thought she +would let them do pretty much as they liked. So far from that, +however, she made them do as she liked, and when some of the +caciques raised a rebellion she took the field in person, beat them +in a pitched battle, and put all the leaders and many of their +followers to death. Since that time there had been no serious +attempt to dispute her authority, which, so far as I could gather, +she used, on the whole, to good purpose. Though cruel and +vindictive, she was also shrewd and resolute, and semi-civilized +races are not ruled with rose-water. She could only maintain order +by making herself feared, and even civilized governments often act +on the principle that the end justifies the means.</p> +<p>Mamcuna had never married because, as she said, there was no man +in the country fit to mate with a daughter of the Incas; but as +Gondocori and some others thought, the man did not exist with whom +she would consent to share her power.</p> +<p>The Pachatupec braves were fine horsemen and expert with the +lasso and the spear and very fine archers. They were bold +mountaineers, too, and occasionally made long forays as far as the +pampas, where, I presume, they had brought the progenitors of the +<em>nandus</em>, of which there were a considerable number in the +country, both wild and tame. The latter were sometimes ridden, but +rather as a feat than a pleasure. The largest flock belonged to the +queen.</p> +<p>By the time I had so far mastered the language as to be able to +converse without much difficulty, the queen had fully regained her +health. This result—which was of course entirely due to +temperate living and regular exercise—she ascribed to my +skill, and I was in high favor. She made me a cacique and court +medicine-man; I had quarters in her house, and horses and servants +were always at my disposal. Had her Majesty’s gratitude gone +no further than this I should have had nothing to complain of; but +she never let me alone, and I had no peace. I was continually being +summoned to her presence; she kept me talking for hours at a time, +and never went out for a ride or a walk without making me bear her +company. Her attentions became so marked, in fact, that I began to +have an awful fear that she had fallen in love with me. As to this +she did not leave me long in doubt.</p> +<p>One day when I had been entertaining her with an account of my +travels, she startled me by inquiring, <em>à propos</em> to +nothing in particular, if I knew why she had not married.</p> +<p>“Because you are a daughter of the Incas, and there is no +man in Pachatupec of equal rank with yourself.”</p> +<p>“Once there was not, but now there is.”</p> +<p>I breathed again; she surely could not mean me.</p> +<p>“There is now—there has been some time,” she +continued, after a short pause. “Know you who he +is?”</p> +<p>I said that I had not the slightest idea.</p> +<p>“Yourself, señor; you are the man.”</p> +<p>“Impossible, Mamcuna! I am of very inferior rank, +indeed—a common soldier, a mere nobody.”</p> +<p>“You are too modest, señor; you do yourself an +injustice. A man with so white a skin, a beard so long, and eyes so +beautiful must be of royal lineage, and fit to mate even with the +daughter of the Incas.”</p> +<p>“You are quite mistaken, Mamcuna; I am utterly unworthy of +so great an honor.”</p> +<p>“You are not, I tell you. Please don’t contradict +me, señor” (she always called me +‘señor’); “it makes me angry. You are the +man whom I delight to honor and desire to wed; what would you have +more?”</p> +<p>“Nothing—I would not have so much. You are too good; +but it would be wrong. I really cannot let you throw yourself away +on a nameless foreigner. Besides what would your caciques +say?”</p> +<p>“If any man dare say a word against you I will have his +tongue torn out by the roots.”</p> +<p>“But suppose I am married already—that I have left a +wife in my own country?” I urged in desperation.</p> +<p>“That would not matter in the least. She is not likely to +come hither, and I will take care that I am your only wife in this +country.”</p> +<p>“Your condescension quite overwhelms me. But all this is +so sudden; you must really give me a little time—”</p> +<p>“A little time! why? You perhaps think I am not sincere, +that I do not mean what I say, that I may change my mind. Have no +fear on that score. There shall be no delay. The preparations for +our wedding shall be begun at once, and ten days hence, dear +señor, you will be my husband.”</p> +<p>What could I say? I had, of course, no intention of marrying +her—I would as lief have married a leopardess. But had I +given her a peremptory negative she might have had me laid by the +heels without more ado, or worse. So I bowed my head and held my +tongue, resolving at the same time that, before the expiration of +the ten days’ respite, I would get out of the country or +perish in the attempt. Whereupon Mamcuna, taking my silence for +consent, showed great delight, patted me on the back, caressed my +beard, fondled my hands, and called me her lord. Fortunately, +kissing was not an institution in Pachatupec.</p> +<p>One good result of our betrothal, if I may so call it, was that +the preparations for the wedding took up so much of Mamcuna’s +time that she had none left for me, and I had leisure and +opportunity to contrive a plan of escape, if I could, for, as I +quickly discovered, the difficulties in the way were almost if not +altogether insurmountable. I could neither go back to the eastern +Cordillera by the road I had come, nor, without guides, find any +other pass, either farther north or farther south. Westward was a +range of barren hills bounded by a sandy desert, destitute of life +or the means of supporting life, and stretching to the desolate +Pacific coast, whence, even if I could reach it, I should have no +means of getting away.</p> +<p>There was, moreover, nobody to whom I could appeal for counsel +or help. Gondocori thought me the most fortunate of men, and was +quite incapable of understanding my scruples. Gahra, albeit willing +to go with me, knew no more of the country than I did, and there +was not a man in it who could have been induced even by a bribe +either to act as my guide or otherwise connive at my escape; and I +had no inducement to offer.</p> +<p>Nevertheless, the opportunity I was looking for came, as +opportunities often do come, spontaneously and unexpectedly, yet in +shape so questionable that it was open to doubt whether, if I +accepted it, my second condition would not be worse than my +first.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XXIV" id="Ch_XXIV">Chapter XXIV.</a></h3> +<h2>In the Toils.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Five days after I had been wooed by the irresistible Mamcuna, +and as I was beginning to fear that I should have to marry her +first and run away afterward, I chanced to be riding in the +neighborhood of the village, when a woman darted out of the thicket +and, standing before my horse, held up her arms imploringly. I had +never spoken to her, but I knew her as the white wife of one of the +caciques.</p> +<p>“Save me, señor!” she exclaimed, “for +the love of heaven and in the name of our common Christianity, I +implore you to save me!”</p> +<p>“From what?”</p> +<p>“From my wretched life, from despair, degradation, and +death.” And then she told me that, while travelling in the +mountains with her husband, a certain Señor de la Vega, and +several friends, they were set upon by a band of Pachatupecs who, +after killing all the male members of the party, carried her off +and brought her to Pachacamac, where she had been compelled to +become one of the wives of the cacique Chimu, and that between his +brutality and the jealousy of the other women, her life, apart from +its ignominy, was so utterly wretched that, unless she could +escape, she must either go mad or be driven to commit suicide.</p> +<p>“I should be only too glad to rescue you if I could. I +want to escape myself; but how? I see no way.”</p> +<p>“It is not so difficult as you think, señor; if we +can get horses and a few hours’ start, I will act as guide +and lead you to a civilized settlement, where we shall be safe from +pursuit. I know the country well.”</p> +<p>“Are you quite sure you can do this, señora? It +will be a hazardous enterprise, remember.”</p> +<p>“Quite sure.”</p> +<p>“And you are prepared to incur the risk?”</p> +<p>“I will run any risk rather than stay where I +am.”</p> +<p>“Very well, I will see what can be done. Meet me here +to-morrow at this hour. And now, we had better separate; if we are +seen together it will be bad for both of us. <em>Hasta +mañana</em>.”</p> +<p>And then she went her way and I went mine.</p> +<p>I had said truly “a hazardous enterprise.” Hazardous +and difficult in any circumstances, the hazard and the difficulty +would be greatly increased by the presence of a woman; and the fact +of a cacique’s wife being one of the companions of my flight +would add to the inveteracy of the pursuit. I greatly doubted, +moreover, whether Señora de la Vega knew the country as well +as she asserted. She was so sick of her wretched condition that she +would say or do anything to get away from it—and no wonder. +But was I justified in letting her run the risk? The punishment of +a woman who deserted her husband was death by burning; were +Señora de la Vega caught, this punishment would be +undoubtedly inflicted; were it even suspected that she had met me +or any other man, secretly, Chimu would almost certainly kill her. +Pachatupec husbands had the power of life and death over their +wives, and they were as jealous and as cruel as Moors. Yet death +was better than the life she was compelled to lead, and as she was +fully cognizant of the risk it seemed my duty to do all that I +could to facilitate her escape.</p> +<p>Then another thought occurred to me. Could this be a trap, a +“put up job,” as the phrase goes. Though the +<em>caciques</em> had not dared to make any open protest against +Mamcuna’s matrimonial project, I knew that they were bitterly +opposed to it, and nothing, I felt sure, would please them better +than to kindle the queen’s jealousy by making it appear that +I was engaged in an intrigue with one of Chimu’s wives.</p> +<p>Yet no, I could not believe it. No Christian woman would play so +base a part. Señora de la Vega could have no interest in +betraying me. She hated her savage husband too heartily to be the +voluntary instrument of my destruction, and she was so utterly +wretched that I pitied her from my soul.</p> +<p>A creole of pure Spanish blood and noble family, bereft of her +husband, forced to become the slave of a brutal Indian, and the +constant associate of hardly less brutal women, painfully conscious +of her degradation, hopeless of any amendment of her lot, poor +Señora de la Vega’s fate would have touched the +hardest heart. And she had little children at home! My suspicions +vanished even more quickly than they had been conceived, and before +I reached my quarters I had decided that, come what might, the +attempt should be made.</p> +<p>The next question was how and when. Clearly, the sooner the +better; but whether we had better set off at sunrise or sunset was +open to doubt. By leaving at sunset we should be less easily +followed; on the other hand, we should have greater difficulty in +finding our way and be sooner missed. It was generally about sunset +that Mamcuna sent for me, and I knew that at this time it would be +well-nigh impossible for Señora de la Vega to leave +Chimu’s house without being observed and questioned, perhaps +followed. So when we met as agreed, I told her that I had decided +to make the attempt on the next morning, and asked her to be in a +grove of plantains, hard by, an hour before dawn. I besought her, +whatever she did, to be punctual; our lives depended on our +stealing away before people were stirring.</p> +<p>Meanwhile Gahra and I had laid our plans. He was to give out the +night before that we were setting off early next morning on a +hunting expedition. This would enable us, without exciting +suspicion, to take a supply of provisions, arms, and a led horse +(for carrying any game we might kill) and, as I hoped, give us a +long start. For even when Señora de la Vega was missed +nobody would suspect that she had gone with us.</p> +<p>In the event—as we hoped, the improbable event—of +our being overtaken or intercepted, Gahra and I were resolved not +to be taken alive; but we had, unfortunately, no firearms; they +were all lost in the snow-storm. Our only weapons were bows and +arrows and machetes. I carried the former merely as a make-believe, +to keep up my character as a hunter; for the same reason we took +with us a brace of dogs. If it came to fighting I should have to +put my trust in my <em>machete</em>, a long broad-bladed sword like +a knife, formidable as a lethal weapon, yet chiefly used for +clearing away brambles and cutting down trees.</p> +<p>All went well at the beginning. We were up betimes and off with +our horses before daylight. The braves on duty asked no questions, +there was no reason why they should, and we passed through the +village without meeting a soul.</p> +<p>So far, good. The omens seemed favorable, and my hopes ran high. +We should get off without anybody knowing which way we had taken, +and several hours before Señora de la Vega was likely to be +missed.</p> +<p>But when we reached the rendezvous she was not there. I whistled +and called softly; nobody answered.</p> +<p>“She will be here presently, we must wait,” I said +to Gahra.</p> +<p>It was terribly annoying. Every minute was precious. The +Pachatupecs are early risers, and if Señora de la Vega did +not join us before daylight we might be seen and the opportunity +lost. The sun rose; still she did not come, and I had just made up +my mind to put off our departure until the next morning, and try to +communicate with Señora de la Vega in the meantime, when +Gahra pointed to a pathway in the wood, where his sharp eyes had +detected the fluttering of a robe.</p> +<p>At last she was coming. But too late. To start at that time +would be madness, and I was about to tell her so, send her back, +and ask her to meet me on the next morning, when she ran forward +with terrified face and uplifted hands.</p> +<p>“Save me! Save me!” she cried, “I could not +get away sooner. I have been watched. They are following me, even +now.”</p> +<p>This was a frightful misfortune, and I feared that the +señora had acted very imprudently. But it was no time either +for reproaches or regrets, and the words were scarcely out of her +mouth when I lifted her into the saddle; as I did so, I caught +sight of two horsemen and several foot-people, coming down the +pathway.</p> +<p>“Go!” I said to Gahra, “I shall stay +here.”</p> +<p>“But, señor—”</p> +<p>“Go, I say; as you love me, go at once. This lady is in +your charge. Take good care of her. I can keep these fellows at bay +until you are out of sight and, if possible, I will follow. At +once, please, at once!”</p> +<p>They went, Gahra’s face expressing the keenest anguish, +the señora half dead with fear. As they rode away I turned +into the pathway and prepared for the encounter. The foot-people +might do as they liked, they could not overtake the fugitives, but +I was resolved that the horsemen should only pass over my body.</p> +<p>The foremost of them was Chimu himself. When he saw that I had +no intention of turning aside, he and his companion (who rode +behind him) reined in their horses. The cacique was quivering with +rage.</p> +<p>“My wife has gone off with your negro,” he said, +hoarsely.</p> +<p>I made no answer.</p> +<p>“I saw you help her to mount. You have met her before. +Mamcuna shall know of this, and my wife shall die.”</p> +<p>Still I made no answer.</p> +<p>“Let me pass!”</p> +<p>I drew my <em>machete</em>.</p> +<p>Chimu drew his and came at me, but he was so poor a swordsman, +that I merely played with him, my object being to gain time, and +only when the other fellow tried to push past me and get to my +left-rear, did I cut the cacique down. On this his companion bolted +the way he had come. I galloped after him, more with the intention +of frightening than hurting him, and was just on the point of +turning back and following the fugitives, when something dropped +over my head, my arms were pinioned to my side, and I was dragged +from my saddle.</p> +<p>The foot-people had lassoed me.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XXV" id="Ch_XXV">Chapter XXV.</a></h3> +<h2>The Man-Killer.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>I was as helpless as a man in a strait waistcoat. When I tried +to rise, my captors tautened the rope and dragged me along the +ground. Resistance being futile, I resigned myself to my fate.</p> +<p>On seeing what had happened, the flying brave (a kinsman of +Chimu’s) returned, and he and the others held a palaver. As +Mamcuna’s affianced husband, I was a person of importance, +and they were evidently at a loss how to dispose of me. If they +treated me roughly, they might incur her displeasure. The +discussion was long and rather stormy. In the result, I was asked +whether I would go with them quietly to the queen’s house or +be taken thither, <em>nolens volens</em>. On answering that I would +go quietly, I was unbound and allowed to mount my horse.</p> +<p>I do not think I am a coward, and in helping Señora de la +Vega to escape and sending her off with Gahra, I knew that I had +done the right thing. Yet I looked forward to the approaching +interview with some misgiving. Barbarian though Mamcuna was, I +could not help entertaining a certain respect for her. She had +treated me handsomely; in offering to make me her husband she had +paid me the greatest compliment in her power; and how little soever +you may reciprocate the sentiment, it is impossible to think +altogether unkindly of the woman who has given you her love. And my +conscience was not free from reproach; I had let her think that I +loved her—as I now perceived, a great mistake. Courageous +herself, she could appreciate courage in others, and had I boldly +and unequivocally refused her offer and given my reasons, I did not +believe she would have dealt hardly with me.</p> +<p>As it was Mamcuna might well say that, having deliberately +deceived her, I deserved the utmost punishment which it was in her +power to inflict. At the same time, I was not without hope that +when she heard my defence she would spare my life.</p> +<p>By the time we reached the queen’s house my escort had +swollen into a crowd, and one of the caciques went in to inform +Mamcuna what had befallen and ask for her instructions.</p> +<p>In a few minutes he brought word that the queen would see me and +the people who had taken part in my capture forthwith. We found her +sitting in her <em>chinchura</em>, in the room where she and I +first met. Bather to my surprise she was calm and collected; yet +there was a convulsive twitching of her lips and an angry glitter +in her eyes that boded ill for my hopes of pardon.</p> +<p>“Is it true, this they tell me, señor—that +you have been helping Chimu’s wife to escape, and killed +Chimu?” she asked.</p> +<p>“It is true.”</p> +<p>“So you prefer this wretched pale-face woman to +me?”</p> +<p>“No, Mamcuna.”</p> +<p>“Why, then, did you help her to escape and kill her +husband? Don’t trifle with me.”</p> +<p>“Because I pitied her.”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>“Chimu treated her ill, and she was very wretched. She +wanted to go back to her own country, and she has little children +at home.”</p> +<p>“What was her wretchedness to you? Did you not know that +you were incurring my displeasure and risking your own +life?”</p> +<p>“I did. But a Christian caballero holds it his duty to +protect the weak and deliver the oppressed, even at the risk of his +own life.”</p> +<p>Mamcuna looked puzzled. The sentiment was too fine for her +comprehension.</p> +<p>“You talk foolishness, señor. No man would run into +danger for a woman whom he did not desire to make his +own.”</p> +<p>“I had no desire to make Señora de la Vega my wife. +I would have done the same for any other woman.”</p> +<p>“For any other woman! Would you risk your life for me, +señor?”</p> +<p>“Surely, Mamcuna, if you were in sorrow or distress and I +could do you any good thereby.”</p> +<p>“It is well, señor; your voice has the ring of +truth,” said the queen, softly, and with a gratified smile, +“and inasmuch as you went not away with Chimu’s +pale-faced wife, but let her depart with the +negro—”</p> +<p>“The señor would have gone also had we not hindered +him,” interposed Chimu’s kinsman. “We saw him +lift the woman into the saddle, and he was turning to follow her +when Lurin caught him with the lasso.”</p> +<p>“Is this true; would you have gone with the woman?” +asked the queen, sternly, her smile changing into an ominous +frown.</p> +<p>“It is true; but let me explain—”</p> +<p>“Enough; I will not hear another word. So you would have +left me, a daughter of the Incas, who have honored you above all +other men, and gone away with a woman you say you do not love! Your +heart is full of deceit, your mouth runs over with lies. You shall +die; so shall the white woman and the black slave. Where are they? +Bring them hither.”</p> +<p>The caciques and braves who were present stared at each other in +consternation. In their exultation and excitement over my capture +the fugitives had been forgotten.</p> +<p>“Mules! Idiots! Old women! Follow them and bring them +back. They shall be burned in the same fire. As for you, +señor, because you cured me of my sickness and were to have +been my husband I will let you choose the method of your death. You +may either be roasted before a slow fire, hacked to pieces with +<em>machetes</em>, or fastened on the back of the man-killer and +sent to perish in the desert. Choose.”</p> +<p>“Just one word of explanation, Mamcuna. I would +fain—”</p> +<p>“Silence! or I will have your tongue torn out by the +roots. Choose!”</p> +<p>“I choose the man-killer.”</p> +<p>“You think it will be an easier death than being hacked to +pieces. You are wrong. The vultures will peck out your eyes, and +you will die of hunger and thirst. But as you have said so let it +be. Tie him to the back of the man-killer, men, and chase it into +the desert. If you let him escape you die in his place. But treat +him with respect; he was nearly my husband.”</p> +<p>And then Mamcuna, sinking back into her <em>chinchura</em>, +covered her face with her hands; but she showed no sign of +relenting, and I was bound with ropes and hurried from the +room.</p> +<p>The man-killer was a nandu<sup>1</sup><span class="sidenote">1. +The American ostrich.</span> belonging to the queen, and had gained +his name by killing one man and maiming several others who unwisely +approached him when he was in an evil temper. Save for an +occasional outburst of homicidal mania and his abnormal size and +strength, the man-killer did not materially differ from the other +nandus of Mamcuna’s flock. His keeper controlled the bird +without difficulty, and I had several times seen him mount and ride +it round an inclosure.</p> +<p>The desert, as I have already mentioned, lies between the +Cordillera and the Pacific Ocean, stretching almost the entire +length of the Peruvian coast, with here and there an oasis watered +by one or other of the few streams which do not lose themselves in +the sand before they reach the sea. It is a rainless, hideous +region of naked rocks and whirling sands, destitute of fresh water +and animal life, a region into which, except for a short distance, +the boldest traveller cares not to venture.</p> +<p>After leaving the queen’s house I was placed in charge of +a party of braves commanded by a cacique, and we set out for the +place where my expiation was to begin. The nandu, led by his keeper +and another man, of course went with us. My conductors, albeit they +made no secret of their joy over my downfall, did their +mistress’s bidding, and treated me with respect. They loosed +my bonds, taking care, however, so to guard me as to render escape +impossible, and, when we halted, gave me to eat and drink. But +their talk was not encouraging. In their opinion, nothing could +save me from a horrible death, probably of thirst. The best that I +could hope for was being smothered in a sandstorm. The man-killer +would probably go on till he dropped from exhaustion, and then, +whether I was alive or dead, birds of prey would pick out my eyes +and tear the flesh from my bones.</p> +<p>About midday we reached the mountain range which divides +Pachatupec from the desert. Anything more lonesome and depressing +it were impossible to conceive. Not a tree, not a shrub, not a +blade of grass nor any green thing; neither running stream nor +gleam of water could be seen. It was a region in which the blessed +rain of heaven had not fallen for untold ages, a region of +desolation and death, of naked peaks, rugged precipices, and rocky +ravines. The heat from the overhead sun, intensified by the +reverberations from the great masses of rock around us, and +unrelieved by the slightest breath of air, was well-nigh +suffocating.</p> +<p>Into this plutonic realm we plunged, and, after a scorching +ride, reached the head of a pass which led straight down to the +desert. Here the cacique in command of the detachment told me, +rather to my surprise, that we were to part company. They were +already a long way from home and saw no reason why they should go +farther. The desert, albeit four or five leagues distant, was quite +visible, and, once started down the pass, the nandu would be bound +to go thither. He could not climb the rocks to the right or the +left, and the braves would take care that he did not return.</p> +<p>As objection, even though I had felt disposed to make it, would +have been useless, I bowed acquiescence. The thought of resisting +had more than once crossed my mind, and, by dint of struggling and +fighting, I might have made the nandu so restive that I could not +have been fastened on his back. But in that case my second +condition would have been worse than my first; I should have been +taken back to Pachatupec and either burned alive or hacked to +pieces, and, black as seemed the outlook, I clung to the hope that +the man-killer would somehow be the means of saving my life.</p> +<p>The binding was effected with considerable difficulty. It +required the united strength of nearly all the braves to hold the +nandu while the cacique and the keepers secured me on his back. As +he was let go he kicked out savagely, ripping open with his +terrible claws one of the men who had been holding him. The next +moment he was striding down the steep and stony pass at a speed +which, in a few minutes, left the pursuing and shouting Pachatupecs +far behind. The ground was so rough and the descent so rapid that I +expected every moment we should come to grief. But on we went like +the wind. Never in my life, except in an express train, was I +carried so fast. The great bird was either wild with rage or under +the impression that he was being hunted. The speed took my breath +away; the motion make me sick. He must have done the fifteen miles +between the head of the pass and the beginning of the desert in +little more than as many minutes. Then, the ground being covered +with sand and comparatively level, the nandu slacked his speed +somewhat, though he still went at a great pace.</p> +<p>The desert was a vast expanse of white sand, the glare of which, +in the bright sunshine, almost blinded me, interspersed with +stretches of rock, swept bare by the wind, and loose stones.</p> +<p>Instead of turning to the right or left, that is to say, to the +north or south, as I hoped and expected he would, the man-killer +ran straight on toward the sea. As for the distance of the coast +from that part of the Cordillera I had no definite +idea—perhaps thirty miles, perhaps fifty, perhaps more. But +were it a hundred we should not be long in going thither at the +speed we were making; and vague hopes, suggesting the possibility +of signalling a passing ship or getting away by sea, began to shape +themselves in the mind. The nandu could not go on forever; before +reaching the sea he must either alter his course or stop, and if he +stopped only a few minutes and so gave me a chance of steadying +myself I thought that, by the help of my teeth, I might untie one +of the cords which the movements of the bird and my own efforts had +already slightly loosened, and once my arms were freed the rest +would be easy.</p> +<p>An hour (as nearly as I could judge) after leaving the +Cordillera I sighted the Pacific—a broad expanse of blue +water shining in the sun and stretching to the horizon. How eagerly +I looked for a sail, a boat, the hut of some solitary fisherman, or +any other sign of human presence! But I saw nothing save water and +sand; the ocean was as lonesome as the desert. There was no +salvation thitherward.</p> +<p>Though my hope had been vague, my disappointment was bitter; but +a few minutes later all thought of it was swallowed up in a new +fear. The sea was below me, and as the ground had ceased to fall I +knew that the desert must end on that side in a line of lofty +cliffs. I knew, also, that nandus are among the most stupid of +bipeds, and it was just conceivable that the man-killer, not +perceiving his danger until too late, might go over the cliffs into +the sea.</p> +<p>The hoarse roar of the waves as they surge against the rocks, at +first faint, grows every moment louder and deeper. I see distinctly +the land’s end, and mentally calculate from the angle it +makes with the ocean, the height of the cliffs.</p> +<p>Still the man-killer strides on, as straight as an arrow and as +resolutely as if a hundred miles of desert, instead of ten thousand +miles of water, stretched before him. Three minutes more +and—I set my teeth hard and draw a deep breath. At any rate, +it will be an easier end than burning, or dying of +thirst—Another moment and—</p> +<p>But now the nandu, seeing that he will soon be treading the air, +makes a desperate effort to stop short, in which failing he wheels +half round, barely in time to save his life and mine, and then +courses madly along the brink for miles, as if unable to tear +himself away, keeping me in a state of continual fear, for a single +slip, or an accidental swerve to the right, and we should have +fallen headlong down the rocks, against which the waves are +beating.</p> +<p>As night closes in he gradually—to my inexpressible +relief—draws inland, making in a direction that must sooner +or later take us back to the Cordillera, though a long way south of +the pass by which we had descended to the desert. But I have hardly +sighted the outline of the mighty barrier, looming portentously in +the darkness, when he alters his course once again, wenching this +time almost due south. And so he continues for hours, seldom going +straight, now inclining toward the coast, anon facing toward the +Cordillera but always on the southward tack, never turning to the +north.</p> +<p>It was a beautiful night. The splendor of the purple sky with +its myriads of lustrous stars was in striking contrast with the +sameness of the white and deathlike desert. A profound melancholy +took hold of me. I had ceased to fear, almost to think, my +perceptions were blinded by excitement and fatigue, my spirits +oppressed by an unspeakable sense of loneliness and helplessness, +and the awful silence, intensified rather than relieved by the long +drawn moaning of the unseen ocean, which, however far I might be +from it, was ever in my ears.</p> +<p>I looked up at the stars, and when the cross began to bend I +knew that midnight was past, and that in a few hours would dawn +another day. What would it bring me—life or death? I hardly +cared which; relief from the torture and suspense I was enduring +would be welcome, come how it might. For I suffered cruelly; I had +a terrible thirst. The cords chafed my limbs and cut into my flesh. +Every movement gave an exquisite pain; I was continually on the +rack; rest, even for a moment, was impossible, as, though the nandu +had diminished his speed, he never stopped. And then a wind came up +from the sea, bringing with it clouds of dust, which well-nigh +choked and half blinded me; filled my ears and intensified my +thirst. After a while a strange faintness stole over me; I felt as +if I were dying, my eyes closed, my head sank on my breast, and I +remembered no more.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XXVI" id="Ch_XXVI">Chapter XXVI.</a></h3> +<h2>Angela.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>“<em>Regardez mon père, regardez! Il va mieux, le +pauvre homme.</em>”</p> +<p>“<em>C’est ça, ma fille chérie, faites +le boire.</em>”</p> +<p>I open my eyes with an effort, for the dust of the desert has +almost blinded me.</p> +<p>I am in a beautiful garden, leaning against the body of the dead +ostrich, a lovely girl is holding a cup of water to my parched +lips, and an old man of benevolent aspect stands by her side.</p> +<p>“<em>Merci mademoiselle, vous etes bien bonne</em>,” +I murmur.</p> +<p>“Oh, father, he speaks French.”</p> +<p>“This passes comprehension. Are you French, +monsieur?”</p> +<p>“No, English.”</p> +<p>“English! This is stranger still. But whence come you, and +who bound you on the nandu?”</p> +<p>“I will tell you—a little more water, I pray you, +mademoiselle.”</p> +<p>“Let him drink again, Angela—and dash some water in +his face; he is faint.”</p> +<p>“<em>Le pauvre homme!</em> See how his lips are swollen! +Do you feel better, monsieur?” she asked compassionately, +again putting the cup to my lips.</p> +<p>“Much. A thousand thanks. I can answer your question now +(to the old man). I was bound on the nandu by order of the Queen of +the Pachatupec Indians.”</p> +<p>“The Pachatupec Indians! I have heard of them. But they +are a long way off; more than a hundred leagues of desert lies +between us and the Pachatupec country. Are you quite sure, +monsieur?”</p> +<p>“Quite. And seeing that the nandu went at great speed, +though not always in a direct line, and we must have been going +fifteen or sixteen hours, I am not surprised that we have travelled +so far.”</p> +<p>“<em>Mon dieu!</em> And all that time you have neither +eaten nor drunk. No wonder you are exhausted! Come with us, and we +will give you something more invigorating than water. You shall +tell us your story afterward—if you will.”</p> +<p>I tried to rise, but my stiffened and almost paralyzed limbs +refused to move.</p> +<p>“Let us help you. Take his other arm, Angela—thus, +Now!” And with that they each gave me a hand and raised me to +my feet.</p> +<p>“How was it? Who killed the nandu?” I asked as I +hobbled on between them.</p> +<p>“We saw the creature coming toward us with what looked +like a dead man on his back, and as he did not seem disposed to +stop I told Angela, who is a famous archer, to draw her bow and +shoot him. He fell dead where he now lies, and when we saw that, +though unconscious, you still lived, we unloosed you.”</p> +<p>“And saved my life. Might I ask to whom I am indebted for +this great service, and to what beautiful country the nandu has +brought me?”</p> +<p>“Say nothing about the service, my dear sir. Helping each +other in difficulty and distress is a duty we owe to Heaven and our +common humanity. I count your coming a great blessing. You are the +first visitor we have had for many years, and the Abbé +Balthazar gives you a warm welcome to San Cristobal de Quipai. The +name is of good omen, Quipai being an Indian word which signifies +‘Rest Here,’ and I shall be glad for you to rest here +so long as it may please you.”</p> +<p>“Nigel Fortescue, formerly an officer in the British Army, +at present a fugitive and a wanderer, tenders you his warmest +thanks, and gratefully accepts your hospitality—And now that +we know each other, Monsieur l’Abbé, might I ask the +favor of an introduction to the young lady to whom I owe my +deliverance from the nandu?”</p> +<p>“She is Angela, monsieur. My people call her +Señorita Angela. It pleases me sometimes to speak of her as +Angela Dieu-donnée, for she was sent to us by God, and ever +since she came among us she has been our good angel.”</p> +<p>“I am sure she has. Nobody with so sweet a face could be +otherwise than good,” I said, with an admiring glance at the +beautiful girl which dyed the damask of her cheek a yet deeper +crimson.</p> +<p>It was no mere compliment. In all my wanderings I have not +beheld the equal of Angela Dieu-donnée. Though I can see her +now, though I learned to paint in order that, however inadequately, +I might make her likeness, I am unable to describe her; words can +give no idea of the comeliness of her face, the grace of her +movements, and the shapeliness of her form. I have seen women with +skins as fair, hair as dark, eyes as deeply blue, but none with the +same brightness of look and sweetness of disposition, none with +courage as high, temper as serene.</p> +<p>To look at Angela was to love her, though as yet I knew not that +I had regained my liberty only to lose my heart. My feelings at the +moment oscillated between admiration of her and a painful sense of +my own disreputable appearance. Bareheaded and shoeless, covered +with the dust of the desert, clad only in a torn shirt and ragged +trousers, my arms and legs scored with livid marks, I must have +seemed a veritable scarecrow. Angela looked like a queen, or would +have done were queens ever so charming, or so becomingly attired. +Her low-crowned hat was adorned with beautiful flowers; a +loose-fitting alpaca robe of light blue set off her form to the +best advantage, and round her waist was a golden baldrick which +supported a sheaf of arrows. At her breast was an orchid which in +Europe would have been almost priceless, her shapely arms were bare +to the shoulder, and her sandaled feet were innocent of hosen.</p> +<p>I was wondering who could have designed this costume, in which +there was a savor of the pictures of Watteau and the court of +Versailles, how so lovely a creature could have found her way to a +place so remote as San Cristobal de Quipai, when the abbé +resumed the conversation.</p> +<p>“Angela came to us as strangely and unexpectedly as you +have come, Monsieur Nigel” (he found my Christian name the +easier to pronounce), “and, like you, without any volition on +her part or previous knowledge of our existence. But there is this +difference between you: she came as a little child, you come as a +grown man. Sixteen years ago we had several severe earthquakes. +They did us little harm down here, but up on the Cordillera they +wrought fearful havoc, and the sea rose and there was a great +storm, and several ships were dashed to pieces against our +iron-bound coast, which no mariner willingly approaches. The +morning after the tempest there was found on the edge of the cliffs +a cot in which lay a rosy-cheeked babe. How it came to pass none +could tell, but we all thought that the cot must have been fastened +to a board, which became detached from the cot at the very moment +when the sea threw it on the land. The babe was just able to lisp +her name—‘Angela,’ which corresponded with the +name embroidered on her clothing. This is all we know about her; +and I greatly fear that those to whom she belonged perished in the +storm. Even the wreckage that was washed ashore furnished no clew; +it was part of two different vessels. The little waif was brought +to me and with me she has ever since remained.”</p> +<p>“And will always remain, dear father,” said Angela, +regarding the old priest with loving reverence. “All that I +lost in the storm has he been to me—father, mother, +instructor, and friend. You see here, monsieur, the best and wisest +man in all the world.”</p> +<p>“You have had so wide an experience of the world and of +men, <em>mignonne</em>!” returned the abbé, with an +amused smile. “Sir, since she could speak she has seen two +white men. You are the second.—Ah, well, if I were not afraid +you would think we had constituted ourselves into a mutual +admiration society I should be tempted to say something even more +complimentary about her.”</p> +<p>“Say it, Monsieur l’Abbé, say it, I pray +you,” I exclaimed, eagerly, for it pleased me more than I can +tell to hear him sound Angela’s praises.</p> +<p>“Nay, I would rather you learned to appreciate her from +your own observation. Yet I will say this much. She is the +brightness of my life, the solace of my old age, and so good that +even praise does not spoil her. But you look tired; shall we sit +down on this fallen log and rest a few minutes?”</p> +<p>To this proposal I gladly assented, for I was spent with fatigue +and faint with hunger. Angela, however, after glancing at me +compassionately and saying she would be back in a few minutes, went +a little farther and presently returned with a bunch of grapes.</p> +<p>“Eat these,” she said, “they will refresh +you.”</p> +<p>It was a simple act of kindness; but a simple act of kindness, +gracefully performed, is often an index of character, and I felt +sure that the girl had a kind heart and deserved all the praise +bestowed on her by the abbé.</p> +<p>I was thanking her, perhaps more warmly than the occasion +required, when she stopped the flow of my eloquence by reminding me +that I had not yet told them why the Indian queen caused me to be +fastened on the back of the <em>nandu</em>.</p> +<p>On this hint I spoke, and though the abbé suggested that +I was too tired for much talking, I not only answered the question +but briefly narrated the main facts of my story, reserving a fuller +account for a future occasion.</p> +<p>Both listened with rapt attention; but of the two Angela was the +more eager listener. She several times interrupted me with requests +for information as to matters which even among European children +are of common knowledge, for, though the abbé was a man of +high learning and she an apt pupil, her experience of life was +limited to Quipai; and he had been so long out of the world that he +had almost forgotten it. As for news, he was worse off than Fray +Ignacio. He had heard of the First Consul but nothing of the +Emperor Napoleon, and when I told him of the restoration of the +Bourbons he shed tears of joy.</p> +<p>“Thank God!” he exclaimed, fervently, “France +is once more ruled by a son of St. Louis. The tricolor is replaced +by the <em>fleur-de-lis</em>. You are our second good angel, +Monsieur Fortescue; you bring us glad tidings of great +joy—You smile, but I am persuaded that Providence has led you +hither in so strange a way for some good purpose, and as I venture +to hope, in answer to my prayers; for albeit our lives here are so +calm and happy, and I have been the means of bringing a great work +to a successful issue, it is not in the nature of things that men +should be free from care, and my mind has lately been troubled with +forebodings—”</p> +<p>“And you never told me, father!” said Angela, +reproachfully. “What are they, these forebodings?”</p> +<p>“Why should you be worried with an old man’s +difficulties? One has reference to my people, the other—but +never mind the other. It may be that already a way has been +opened.—If you feel sufficiently rested, Monsieur Nigel, I +think we had better proceed. A short walk will bring us to San +Cristobal, and it would be well for us to get thither before the +heat of the day.”</p> +<p>I protested that the rest and the bunch of grapes had so much +refreshed me that I felt equal to a long walk, and we moved on.</p> +<p>“What a splendid garden!” I exclaimed for the third +or fourth time as we entered an alley festooned with trailing +flowers and grape-vines from which the fruit hung in thick +clusters.</p> +<p>“All Quipai is a garden,” said the abbé, +proudly. “We have fruit and flowers and cereals all the year +round, thanks to the great <em>azequia</em> (aqueduct) which the +Incas built and I restored. And such fruit! Let him taste a +<em>chirimoya ma fille chèrie</em>.”</p> +<p>From a tree about fifteen feet high Angela plucked a round green +fruit, not unlike an apple, but covered with small knobs and +scales. Then she showed me how to remove the skin, which covered a +snow-white juicy pulp of exquisite fragrance and a flavor that I +hardly exaggerated in calling divine. It was a fruit fit for the +gods, and so I said.</p> +<p>“We owe it all to the great <em>azequia</em>,” +observed the abbé. “See, it feeds these rills and +fills those fountains, waters our fields, and makes the desert +bloom like the rose and the dry places rejoice. And we have not +only fruit and flowers, but corn, coffee, cocoa, yuccas, potatoes, +and almost every sort of vegetable.”</p> +<p>“Quipai is a land of plenty and a garden of +delight.”</p> +<p>“A most apt description, and so long as the great +<em>azequia</em> is kept in repair and the system of irrigation +which I have established is maintained it will remain a land of +plenty and a garden of delight.”</p> +<p>“And if any harm should befall the +<em>azequia</em>?”</p> +<p>“In that case, and if our water-supply were to fail, +Quipai, as you see it now, would cease to exist. The desert, which +we are always fighting and have so far conquered, would regain the +mastery, and the mission become what I found it, a little oasis at +the foot of the Cordillera, supporting with difficulty a few score +families of naked Indians. One of these days, if you are so +disposed, you shall follow the course of the <em>azequia</em> and +see for yourself with what a marvellous reservoir, fed by Andean +snows, Nature has provided us. But more of this another time. Look! +Yonder is San Cristobal, our capital as I sometimes call it, though +little more than a village.”</p> +<p>The abbé said truly. It was little more than a village; +but as gay, as picturesque, and as bright as a scene in an +opera—two double rows of painted houses forming a large oval, +the space between them laid out as a garden with straight walks and +fountains and clipped shrubs, after the fashion of Versailles; in +the centre a church and two other buildings, one of which, as the +abbé told me, was a school, the other his own dwelling.</p> +<p>The people we met saluted him with great humility, and he +returned their salutations quite <em>en grand seigneur</em>, even, +as I thought, somewhat haughtily. One woman knelt in the road, +kissed his hand, and asked for his blessing, which he gave like the +superior being she obviously considered him. It was the same in the +village. Everybody whom we met or passed stood still and uncovered. +There could be no question who was master in San Cristobal. +Abbé Balthazar was both priest and king, and, as I afterward +came to know, there was every reason why he should be.</p> +<p>He kept a large establishment, for the country, and lived in +considerable state. On entering his house, which was surrounded by +a veranda and embowered in trees, the abbé, asked if I would +like a bath, and on my answering in the affirmative ordered one of +the servants, all of whom spoke Spanish, to take me to the +bath-room and find me a suit of clothes.</p> +<p>The bath made me feel like another man, and the fresh garments +effected as great a change in my personal appearance. There was not +much difficulty about the fit. A cotton undershirt, a blue jacket +with silver buttons, a red sash, white breeches, loose at the knee, +and a pair of sandals, and I was fully attired. Stockings I had to +dispense with. They were not in vogue at San Cristobal.</p> +<p>When I was ready, the servant, who had acted as my valet, +conducted me to the dining-room, where I found Angela and the +abbé.</p> +<p>“<em>Parbleu!</em>” exclaimed the latter, who +occasionally indulged in expressions that were not exactly +clerical. “<em>Parbleu!</em> I had no idea that a bath and +clean raiment could make so great an improvement in a man’s +appearance. That costume becomes you to admiration, Monsieur Nigel. +Don’t you think so, Angela?”</p> +<p>“You forget, father, that he is the only caballero I ever +saw. Are all caballeros like him?”</p> +<p>“Very few, I should say. It is a long time since I saw +any; but even at the court of Louis XV. I do not remember seeing +many braver looking gentlemen than our guest.”</p> +<p>As I bowed in acknowledgment of the compliment Angela gave me a +quick glance, blushed deeply, and then, turning to the abbé, +proposed that we should take our places at the table.</p> +<p>I was so hungry that even an indifferent meal would have seemed +a luxurious banquet, but the repast set before us might have +satisfied an epicure. We had a delicious soup, something like +mutton-cutlets, land-turtle steaks, and capon, all perfectly +cooked; vegetables and fruit in profusion, and the wine was as good +as any I had tasted in France or Spain. After dinner coffee was +served and the abbé inquired whether I would retire to my +room and have a sleep, or smoke a cigarette with him and Angela on +the veranda.</p> +<p>In ordinary circumstances I should probably have preferred to +sleep; but I was so fascinated with Mademoiselle +Dieu-donnée, so excited by all that I had seen and heard, so +curious to know the history of this French priest, who talked of +the court of Louis XV., who had created a country and a people, and +contrived, in a region so remote from civilization, to surround +himself with so many luxuries, that I elected without hesitation +for the cigarettes and the veranda.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XXVII" id="Ch_XXVII">Chapter XXVII.</a></h3> +<h2>Abbé Balthazar.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Though my wounds had not ceased their smarting nor my bones +their aching my happiness was complete. The splendid prospect +before me, the glittering peaks of the Cordillera, the gleaming +waters of the far Pacific, the gardens and fountains of San +Cristobal, the charm of Angela’s presence, and the +abbé’s conversation made me oblivious to the past and +careless of the future. The hardships and perils I had lately +undergone, my weary wanderings in the wilderness, the dull monotony +of the Happy Valley, the passage of the Andes, my terrible ride on +the <em>nandu</em>, all were forgotten. The contrast between my +by-gone miseries and present surroundings added zest to my +enjoyment. I felt as one suddenly transported from Hades to +Elysium, and it required an effort to realize that it was not all a +dream, destined to end in a rude awaking.</p> +<p>After some talk about Europe, the revolt of the Spanish +colonies, and my recent adventures, the abbé gave me an +account of his life and adventures. The scion of a noble French +family, he had been first a page of honor at Versailles, then an +officer of the <em>garde du corps</em>, and among the gayest of the +gay. But while yet a youth some terrible event on which he did not +like to dwell—a disastrous love affair, a duel in which he +killed one who had been his friend—wrought so radical a +change in his character and his ideals that he resigned his +commission, left the court, and joined the Society of Jesus, under +the name of Balthazar. Being a noble he became an abbé +(though he had never an abbey) as a matter of course, and full of +religious ardor and thirsting for distinction in his new calling he +volunteered to go out as a missionary among the wild tribes of +South America.</p> +<p>After long wanderings, and many hardships, Balthazar and two +fellow priests accidentally discovered Quipai, at that time a mere +collection of huts on the banks of a small stream which descended +from the gorges of the Cordillera only to be lost in the sands of +the desert. But all around were remains which showed that Quipai +had once been a place of importance and the seat of a large +population—ruined buildings of colossal dimensions, heaps of +quarried stones, a cemetery rich in relics of silver and gold; and +a great <em>azequia</em>, in many places still intact, had brought +down water from the heart of the mountains for the irrigation of +the rainless region of the coast.</p> +<p>Balthazar had moreover heard of the marvellous system of +irrigation whereby the Incas had fertilized nearly the whole of the +Peruvian desert; and as he surveyed the ruins he conceived the +great idea of restoring the aqueduct and repeopling the neighboring +waste. To this task he devoted his life. His first proceeding was +to convert the Indians and found a mission, which he called San +Cristobal de Quipai; his next to show them how to make the most of +the water-privileges they already possessed. A reservoir was built, +more land brought under cultivation, and the oasis rendered capable +of supporting a larger population. The resulting prosperity and the +abbé’s fame as a physician (he possessed a fair +knowledge of medicine) drew other Indians to Quipai.</p> +<p>After a while the gigantic undertaking was begun, and little by +little, and with infinite patience and pain accomplished. It was a +work of many years, and when I travelled the whole length of the +<em>azequia</em> I marvelled greatly how the abbé, with the +means at his command, could have achieved an enterprise so arduous +and vast. The aqueduct, nearly twenty leagues in length, extended +from the foot of the snow-line to a valley above Quipai, the water +being taken thence in stone-lined canals and wooden pipes to the +seashore. In several places the <em>azequia</em> was carried on +lofty arches over deep ravines: and there were two great +reservoirs, both remarkable works. The upper one was the crater of +an extinct volcano, of unknown depth, which contained an immense +quantity of water. It took so long to fill that the abbé, as +he laughingly told me, began to think that there must be a hole in +the bottom. But in the end it did fill to the very brim, and always +remained full. The second reservoir, a dammed up valley, was just +below the first; it served to break the fall from the higher to the +lower level and receive the overflow from the crater.</p> +<p>A bursting of either of the reservoirs was quite out of the +question; at any rate the abbé so assured me, and certainly +the crater looked strong enough to hold all the water in the Andes, +could it have been got therein, while the lower reservoir was so +shallow—the out-flow and the loss by evaporation being equal +to the in-take—that even if the banks were to give way no +great harm could be done.</p> +<p>I mention these particulars because they have an important +bearing on events that afterward befell, and on my own destiny.</p> +<p>Only a born engineer and organizer of untiring energy and +illimitable patience could have performed so herculean a labor. +Balthazar was all this, and more. He knew how to rule men +despotically yet secure their love. The Indians did his bidding +without hesitation and wrought for him without pay. In the absence +of this quality his task had never been done. On the other hand, he +owed something to fortune. All the materials were ready to his +hand. He built with the stone quarried by the Incas. His work +suffered no interruption from frost or snow or rain. His very +isolation was an advantage. He had neither enemies to fear, friends +to please, nor government officers to propitiate.</p> +<p>On the landward side Quipai was accessible only by difficult and +little known mountain-passes which nobody without some strong +motive would care to traverse, and passing ships might be trusted +to give a wide berth to an iron-bound coast destitute alike of +harbors and trade.</p> +<p>So it came to pass that, albeit the mission of Quipai was in the +dominion of the King of Spain, none of his agents knew of its +existence, his writs did not run there, and Balthazar treated the +royal decree for the expulsion of the Jesuits from South America +(of which he heard two or three years after its promulgation) with +the contempt that he thought it deserved. Nevertheless, he deemed +it the part of prudence to maintain his isolation more rigidly than +ever, and make his communications with the outer world few and far +between, for had it become known to the captain-general of Peru +that there was a member of the proscribed order in his +vice-royalty, even at so out of the way a place as Quipai he would +have been sent about his business without ceremony. The possibility +of this contingency was always in the abbé’s mind. For +a time it caused him serious disquiet; but as the years went on and +no notice was taken of him his mind became easier. The news I +brought of the then recent events in Spain and the revolt of her +colonies made him easier. The viceroy would have too many irons in +the fire to trouble himself about the mission of Quipai and its +chief, even if they should come to his knowledge, which was to the +last degree improbable. We sat talking for several hours, and +should probably have talked longer had not the abbé kindly +yet peremptorily insisted on my retiring to rest.</p> +<p>Early next morning we started on an excursion to the valley +lake, each of us mounted on a fine mule from the +abbé’s stables, and attended by an <em>arriero</em>. +North as well as south of San Cristobal (as the village was +generally called) the country had the same garden-like aspect. +There was none of the tangled vegetation which in tropical forests +impedes the traveller’s progress; except where they had been +planted by the roadside for protection from the sun, or bent over +the water-courses, the trees grew wide apart like trees in a park. +Men and women were busy in the fields and plantations, for the +abbé had done even a more wonderful thing than restoring the +great <em>azequia</em>—converted a tribe of indolent +aborigines into an industrious community of husbandmen and +craftsmen; among them were carpenters, smiths, masons, weavers, +dyers, and cunning workers in silver and gold. The secret of his +power was the personal ascendancy of a strong man, the naturally +docile character of his converts, the inflexible justice which +characterized all his dealings with them, and the belief +assiduously cultivated, that as he had been their benefactor in +this world he could control their destinies in the next. Though he +never punished he was always obeyed, and there was probably not a +man or woman under his sway who would have hesitated to obey him, +even to death.</p> +<p>The lake was small yet picturesque, its verdant banks deepening +by contrast the dark desolation of the arid mountains in which it +was embosomed. Some three thousand feet above it rose the extinct +volcano, the slopes of which in the days of the Incas were terraced +and cultivated. Angela and I half rode, half walked to the top; but +the abbé, on the plea that he had some business to look +after, stayed at the bottom.</p> +<p>The crater was about eight hundred yards in diameter and filled +nearly to the brim with crystal water, which outflowed by a wide +and well made channel into the lake, the supply being kept up by +the in-flow from the <em>azequia</em>, whose course we could trace +far into the mountains.</p> +<p>The view from our coigne of vantage was unspeakably grand. +Behind us rose the stupendous range of the Andes, with its +snow-white peaks and smoking volcanoes; before us the oasis of +Quipai rolled like a river of living green to the shores of the +measureless ocean, whose shining waters in that clear air and under +that azure sky seemed only a few miles away, while, as far as the +eye could reach, the coast-line was fringed with the dreary waste +where I had so nearly perished.</p> +<p>The oasis, as I now for the first time discovered, was a valley, +a broad shallow depression in the desert falling in a gentle slope +from the foot of the Cordillera to the sea, whereby its irrigation +was greatly facilitated.</p> +<p>“How beautiful Quipai looks, and how like a river!” +said Angela. “That is what I always think when I come +here—how like a river!”</p> +<p>“Who knows that long ago the valley was not the bed of a +river!”</p> +<p>“It must be very long ago, then, before there was any +Cordillera. Rain-clouds never cross the Andes, and for untold ages +there can have been no rain here on the coast.”</p> +<p>“You are right. Without rain you cannot have much of a +river, and if the <em>azequia</em> were to fail there would be very +little left of Quipai.”</p> +<p>“Don’t suggest anything so dreadful as the failure +of the <em>azequia</em>. It is the Palladium of the mission and the +source of all our prosperity and happiness. Besides, how could it +fail? You see how solidly it is built, and every month it is +carefully inspected from end to end.”</p> +<p>“It might be destroyed by an earthquake.”</p> +<p>“You are pleased to be a Job’s comforter, Monsieur +Nigel. Damaged it might be, but hardly destroyed, except in some +cataclysm which would destroy everything, and that is a risk which, +like all dwellers in countries subject to earthquakes, we must run. +We cannot escape from the conditions of our existence; and life is +so pleasant here, we are spared so many of the miseries which +afflict our fellow-creatures in other parts of the world—war, +pestilence, strife, and want—that it were as foolish and +ungrateful to make ourselves unhappy because we are exposed to some +remote danger against which we cannot guard, as to repine because +we cannot live forever.”</p> +<p>“You discourse most excellent philosophy, Mademoiselle +Angela.”</p> +<p>“Without knowing it, then, as Monsieur Jourdan talked +prose.”</p> +<p>“So! You have read Molière?”</p> +<p>“Over and over again.”</p> +<p>“Then you must have a library at San Cristobal.”</p> +<p>“A very small one, as you may suppose; but a small library +is not altogether a disadvantage, as the abbé says. The +fewer books you have the oftener you read them; and it is better to +read a few books well than many superficially.”</p> +<p>“The abbé has been your sole teacher, I +suppose?”</p> +<p>“Has been! He is still. He has even written books for me, +and he is the author of some of the best I possess—But +don’t you think, monsieur, we had better descend to the +valley? The abbé will have finished his business by this +time, and though he is the best man in the world he has the fault +of kings; he does not like to wait.”</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XXVIII" id="Ch_XXVIII">Chapter XXVIII.</a></h3> +<h2>I Bid You Stay.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>“You have been here a month, Monsieur Nigel, living in +close intimacy with Angela and myself,” said the abbé, +as we sat on the veranda sipping our morning coffee. “You +have mixed with our people, seen our country, and inspected the +great <em>azequia</em> in its entire length. Tell me, now, frankly, +what do you think of us?”</p> +<p>“I never passed so happy a month in my life, +and—”</p> +<p>“I am glad to hear you say so, very glad. My question, +however, referred not to your feelings but your opinion. I will +repeat it: What think you of Quipai and its +institutions?”</p> +<p>“I know of but one institution in Quipai, and I admire it +more than I can tell.”</p> +<p>“And that is?”</p> +<p>“Yourself, Monsieur l’Abbé.”</p> +<p>The abbé smiled as if the compliment pleased him, but the +next moment his face took the “pale cast of thought,” +and he remained silent for several minutes.</p> +<p>“I know what you mean,” he said at length, speaking +slowly and rather sadly. “You mean that I am Quipai, and that +without me Quipai would be nowhere.”</p> +<p>“Exactly, Monsieur l’Abbé. Quipai is a +miracle; you are its creator, yet I doubt whether, as it now +exists, it could long survive you. But that is a contingency which +we need not discuss; you have still many years of life before +you.”</p> +<p>“I like a well-turned compliment, Monsieur Nigel, because +in order to be acceptable it must possess both a modicum of truth +and a <em>soupçon</em> of wit. But flattery I detest, for it +must needs be insincere. A man of ninety cannot, in the nature of +things, have many years of life before him. What are even ten years +to one who has already lived nearly a century? This is a solemn +moment for both of us, and I want to be sincere with you. You were +sincere just now when you said Quipai would perish with me. And it +will—unless I can find a successor who will continue the work +which I have begun. My people are good and faithful, but they +require a prescient and capable chief, and there is not one among +them who is fitted either by nature or education to take the place +of leader. Will you be my successor, Monsieur Nigel?”</p> +<p>This was a startling proposal. To stay in Quipai for a few weeks +or even a few months might be very delightful. But to settle for +life in an Andean desert! On the other hand, to leave Quipai were +to lose Angela.</p> +<p>“You hesitate. But reflect well, my friend, before denying +my request. True, you are loath to renounce the great world with +its excitements, ambitions, and pleasures. But you would renounce +them for a life free from care, an honorable position, and a career +full of promise. It will take years to complete the work I have +begun, and make Quipai a nation. As I said when you first came, +Providence sent you here, as it sent Angela, for some good end. It +sent the one for the other. Stay with us, Monsieur Nigel, and marry +Angela! If you search the world through you could find no sweeter +wife.”</p> +<p>My hesitation vanished like the morning mist before the rising +sun.</p> +<p>“If Angela will be my wife,” I said, “I will +be your successor.”</p> +<p>“It is the answer I expected, Monsieur Nigel. I am content +to let Angela be the arbiter of your fate and the fate of Quipai. +She will be here presently. Put the question yourself. She knows +nothing of this; but I have watched you both, and though my eyes +are growing dim I am not blind.”</p> +<p>And with that the abbé left me to my thoughts. It was not +the first time that the idea of asking Angela to be my wife had +entered my mind. I loved her from the moment I first set eyes on +her, and my love has become a passion. But I had not been able to +see my way. How could I ask a beautiful, gently nurtured girl to +share the lot of a penniless wanderer, even if she could consent to +leave Quipai, which I greatly doubted. But now! Compared with +Angela, the excitements and ambitions of which the abbé had +spoken did not weigh as a feather in the balance. Without her life +would be a dreary penance; with her a much worse place than Quipai +would be an earthly paradise.</p> +<p>But would she have me? The abbé seemed to think so. +Nevertheless, I felt by no means sure about it. True, she appeared +to like my company. But that might be because I had so much to tell +her that was strange and new; and though I had observed her +narrowly, I had detected none of that charming self-consciousness, +that tender confusion, those stolen glances, whereby the +conventional lover gauges his mistress’s feelings, and knows +before he speaks that his love is returned. Angela was always the +same—frank, open, and joyous, and, except that her caresses +were reserved for him, made no difference between the abbé +and me.</p> +<p>“A <em>chirimoya</em> for your thoughts, +señor!” said a well-known voice, in musical Castilian. +“For these three minutes I have been standing close by you, +with this freshly gathered chirimoya, and you took no notice of +me.”</p> +<p>“A thousand pardons and a thousand thanks, +señorita!” I answered, taking the proffered fruit. +“But my thoughts were worth all the chirimoyas in the world, +delicious as they are, for they were of you.”</p> +<p>“We were thinking of each other then.”</p> +<p>“What! Were you thinking of me?”</p> +<p>“<em>Si, señor.</em>”</p> +<p>“And what were you thinking, señorita?”</p> +<p>“That God was very good in sending you to +Quipai.”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>“For several reasons.”</p> +<p>“Tell me them.”</p> +<p>“Because you have done the abbé good. Aforetime he +was often sad. You remember his saying that he had cares. I know +not what, but now he seems himself again.”</p> +<p>“Anything else?”</p> +<p>“<em>Si, señor.</em> You have also increased my +happiness. Not that I was unhappy before, for, thanks to the dear +abbé, my life has been free from sorrow; but during the last +month—since you came—I have been more than happy, I +have been joyous.”</p> +<p>“You don’t want me to go, then?”</p> +<p>“O señor! Want you to go! How can you—what +have I done or said?” exclaimed the girl, impetuously and +almost indignantly. “Surely, sir, you are not tired of us +already?”</p> +<p>“Heaven forbid! If you want me to stay I shall not go. It +is for you to decide. <em>Angela mia</em>, it depends on you +whether I go away soon—how or whither I know not—or +stay here all my life long.”</p> +<p>“Depends on me! Then, sir, I bid you stay.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Angela, you must say more than that. You must consent +to become my wife; then do with me what you will.”</p> +<p>“Your wife! You ask me to become your wife?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Angela. I have loved you since the day we first met; +every day my love grows stronger and deeper, and unless you love me +in return, and will be my wife, I cannot stay; I must go—go +at once.”</p> +<p>“<em>Quipai, señor</em>,” said Angela, +archly, at the same time giving me her hand.</p> +<p>“Quipai! I don’t quite understand—unless you +mean—”</p> +<p>“Quipai,” she repeated, her eyes brightening into a +merry smile.</p> +<p>“Unless you mean—”</p> +<p>“Quipai.”</p> +<p>“Oh, how dull I am! I see now. Quipai—rest +here.”</p> +<p>“<em>Si, señor.</em>”</p> +<p>“And if I rest here, you will—”</p> +<p>“Do as you wish, señor, and with all my heart; for +as you love me, so I love you.”</p> +<p>“Dearest Angela!” I said, kissing her hand, +“you make me almost too happy. Never will I leave Quipai +without you.”</p> +<p>“And never will I leave it without you. But let us not +talk of leaving Quipai. Where can we be happier than here with the +dear abbé? But what will he say?”</p> +<p>“He will give us his blessing. His most ardent wish is +that I should be your husband and his successor.”</p> +<p>“How good he is? And I, wicked girl that I am, repay his +goodness with base ingratitude. Ah me! How shall I tell +him?”</p> +<p>“You repay his goodness with base ingratitude? You speak +in riddles, my Angela.”</p> +<p>“Since the waves washed me to his feet, a little child, +the abbé has cherished me with all the tenderness of a +mother, all the devotion of a father. He has been everything to me; +and now you are everything to me. I love you better than I love +him. Don’t you think I am a wicked girl?” And she put +her arm within mine, and looking at me with love-beaming eyes, +caressing my cheek with her hand.</p> +<p>“I will grant you absolution, and award you no worse +penance than an embrace, <em>ma fille cherie</em>,” said the +abbé, who had returned to the veranda just in time to +overhear Angela’s confession. “I rejoice in your +happiness, <em>mignonne</em>. To-day you make two men +happy—your lover and myself. You have lightened my mind of +the cares which threatened to darken my closing days. The thought +of leaving you without a protector and Quipai without a chief was a +sore trouble. Your husband will be both. Like Moses, I have seen +the Promised Land, and I shall be content.”</p> +<p>“Talk not of dying, dear father or you will make me +sad,” said Angela, putting her arms round his neck.</p> +<p>“There are worse things than dying, my child. But you are +quite right; this is no time for melancholy forebodings. Let us be +happy while we may; and since I came to Quipai, sixty years ago, I +have had no happier day than this.”</p> +<p>As the only law at Quipai was the abbé’s will, and +we had neither settlements to make, trousseaux to prepare, nor +house to get ready (the abbé’s house being big enough +for us all), there was no reason why our wedding should be delayed, +and the week after Angela and I had plighted our troth, we were +married at the church of San Cristobal.</p> +<p>The abbé’s wedding-present to Angela was a gold +cross studded with large uncut diamonds. Where he got them I had no +idea, but I heard afterward—and something more.</p> +<p>All this time nothing, save vague generalities, had passed +between us on the subject of religion—rather to my surprise, +for priests are not wont to ignore so completely their <em>raison +d’être</em>, but I subsequently found that Balthazar, +albeit a devout Christian, was no bigot. Either his early training, +his long isolation from ecclesiastical influence, or his communings +with Nature had broadened his horizon and spiritualized his +beliefs. Dogma sat lightly on him, and he construed the apostolic +exhortations to charity in their widest sense. But these views were +reserved for Angela and myself. With his flock he was the Roman +ecclesiastic—a sovereign pontiff—whom they must obey in +this world on pain of being damned in the next. For he held that +the only ways of successfully ruling semi-civilized races are by +physical force, personal influence, or their fear of the unseen and +the unknown. At the outset Balthazar, having no physical force at +his command, had to trust altogether to personal influence, which, +being now re-enforced by the highest religious sanctions, made his +power literally absolute. Albeit Quipai possessed neither soldiers, +constables, nor prison, his authority was never questioned; he was +as implicitly obeyed as a general at the head of an army in the +field.</p> +<p>I have spoken of the abbé’s communings with Nature. +I ought rather to have said his searchings into her mysteries; for +he was a shrewd philosopher and keen observer, and despite the +disadvantages under which he labored, the scarcity of his books, +and the rudeness of his instruments, he had acquired during his +long life a vast fund of curious knowledge which he placed +unreservedly at my disposal. I became his pupil, and it was he who +first kindled in my breast that love of science which for nearly +three-score years I have lived only to gratify.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XXIX" id="Ch_XXIX">Chapter XXIX.</a></h3> +<h2>The Abbé’s Legacy.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Life was easy at Quipai, and we were free from care. On the +other hand, we had so much to do that time sped swiftly, and though +we were sometimes tired we were never weary. The abbé made +me the civil governor of the mission, and gave orders that I should +be as implicitly obeyed as himself. My duties in this capacity, +though not arduous, were interesting, including as they did all +that concerned the well-being of the people, the maintenance of the +<em>azequia</em>, and the irrigation of the oasis. My leisure hours +were spent in study, working in the abbé’s laboratory, +and with Angela, who nearly always accompanied me on my excursions +to the head of the aqueduct which, as I have already mentioned was +at the foot of the snow-line, two days’ journey from the +valley lake.</p> +<p>It was during one of these excursions that we planned our new +home, a mountain nest which we would have all to ourselves, and +whither at the height of summer we might escape from the heat of +the oasis, for albeit the climate of Quipai was fine on the whole, +there were times when the temperature rose to an uncomfortable +height. The spot on which we fixed was a hollow in the hills, some +two miles beyond the crater reservoir and about eight thousand feet +above the level of the sea. By tapping the <em>azequia</em> we +turned the barren valley into a garden of roses, for in that +rainless region water was a veritable magician, whatsoever it +touched it vivified. This done we sent up timber, and built +ourselves a cottage, which we called Alta Vista, for the air was +superb and the view one of the grandest in the world.</p> +<p>Angela would fain have persuaded the abbé to join us; yet +though I made a well-graded road and the journey was neither long +nor fatiguing he came but seldom. He was so thoroughly acclimatized +that he preferred the warmth of San Cristobal to the freshness of +Alta Vista, and the growing burden of his years indisposed him to +exertion, and made movement an effort. We could all see, and none +more clearly than himself, that the end was not far off. He +contemplated it with the fortitude of a philosopher and the faith +of a Christian. For the spiritual wants of his people he provided +by ordaining (as in virtue of his ecclesiastical rank he had the +right to do), three young men, whom he had carefully educated for +the purpose; the reins of government he gave over entirely to +me.</p> +<p>“I have lived a long life and done a good work, and though +I shall be sorry to leave you, I am quite content to go,” he +said one day to Angela and me. “It is not in my power to +bequeath you a fortune, in the ordinary sense of the word, for +money I have none, yet so long as the mission prospers you will be +better off than if I could give you millions. But everything human +is ephemeral and I cannot disguise from myself the possibility of +some great disaster befalling you. Those mountains contain both +gold and silver, and an invasion of treasure-seekers, either from +the sea or the Cordillera would be the ruin of the mission. My poor +people would be demoralized, perhaps destroyed, and you would be +compelled to quit Quipai and return to the world. For that +contingency, though I hope it will never come to pass, you must be +prepared, and I will point out the way. The mountains, as I have +said, contain silver and gold; and contain something even more +precious than silver and gold—diamonds, I made the discovery +nearly half a century ago, and I confess that, for a time, the +temptation was almost more than I could withstand. With such wealth +as I saw at my disposal I might do anything, be anything, enrich my +order, win distinction for myself, and attain to high rank, perhaps +the highest, in the church, or leave it and become a power in the +world, a master of men and the guest of princes. Yes, it was a sore +temptation, but with God’s help, I overcame it and chose the +better part, the path of duty, and I have my reward. I brought a +few diamonds away with me, some of which are in Angela’s +cross; but I have never been to the place since. I told you not +this sooner, my son, partly because there seemed no need, partly +because, not knowing you as well as I know you now, I thought you +might be tempted in like manner as I was and we pray not to be led +into temptation. But though I tell you where these precious stones +are to be found, I am sure that you will never quit +Quipai.”</p> +<p>“I have no great desire to know the whereabout of this +diamond mine, father. Tell me or not as you think fit. In any case, +I shall be true to my trust and my word. I promise you that I will +not leave Quipai till I am forced, and I hope I never may +be.”</p> +<p>“All the same, my son, it is the part of a wise man to +provide for even unlikely contingencies. Remember, it is the +unexpected that happens, and I would not have you and our dear +Angela cast on the world penniless. For her, bred as she has been, +it would be a frightful misfortune; and up yonder are diamonds +which would make you rich beyond the dreams of avarice. Promise me +that you will go thither, and bring away as many as you can +conveniently carry about your persons in the event of your being +compelled to quit the oasis at short notice.”</p> +<p>“I promise. Nevertheless, I see no +probability—”</p> +<p>“We are discussing possibilities not probabilities, my +son. And during the last few days I have had forebodings, if I were +superstitious I should say prophetic visions, else had I not +broached the subject. Regard it, if you like, as an old man’s +whim—and keep a look-out on the sea.”</p> +<p>“Why particularly on the sea?”</p> +<p>“It is the quarter whence danger is most to be +apprehended. If some Spanish war-ship were to sight the oasis and +send a boat ashore, either out of idle curiosity or for other +reasons, a report would be made to the captain-general, or to +whomsoever is now in authority at Lima, and there would come a +horde of government functionaries, who would take possession of +everything, and you would have to go. But take your pen and note +down the particulars that will enable you to find the diamond +mine.”</p> +<p>Though Angela and I listened to the abbé’s warnings +with all respect, they made little impression on our minds. We +regarded them as the vagaries of an old man, whose mind was +affected by the feebleness of his body, and a few weeks later he +breathed his last. His death came in the natural order of things, +and, as he had outlived his strength, it was for him a happy +release; yet, as we had loved him much, we sorrowed for him deeply, +and I still honor his memory. Take him all in all, Abbé +Balthazar was the best man I have ever known.</p> +<p>Shortly after we laid him in the ground I made a visit to the +diamond ground, the situation of which the abbé had so fully +described that I found it without difficulty. But the undertaking, +besides proving much more arduous than I had anticipated, came near +to costing me my life. I took with me an <em>arriero</em> and three +mules, one carrying an ample supply of food, and, as I thought, of +water, for the abbé had told me that a mountain-stream ran +through the valley where I was to look for the diamonds. As +ill-luck would have it, however, the stream was dried up. Had it +not been that I did not like to return empty-handed I should have +returned at once, for our stock of water was exhausted and we were +two days’ journey from Quipai.</p> +<p>I spent a whole day seeking among the stones and pebbles, and my +search was so far successful that I picked up two score diamonds, +some of considerable size. If I could have stayed longer I might +have made a still richer harvest; and I had an idea that there were +more under than above ground. But I had stayed too long as it was. +The mules were already suffering for want of water; all three +perished before we reached Quipai, and the arriero and myself got +home only just alive.</p> +<p>Nevertheless, had not Angelo put her veto on the project, I +should have made another visit to the place, provided with a +sufficiency of water for the double journey. I, moreover, thought +that with time and proper tools I could find water on the spot. +However, I went not again, and I renounced my design all the more +willingly as I knew that the diamonds I had already found were a +fortune in themselves. I added them to my collection of minerals +which I kept in my cabinet at Alta Vista. My Quipais being honest +and knowing nothing whatever of precious stones I had no fear of +robbers.</p> +<p>For several years after Balthazar’s death nothing occurred +to disturb the even tenor of our way, and I had almost forgotten +his warnings, and that we were potentially “rich beyond the +dreams of avarice,” when one day a runner brought word that +two men had landed on the coasts and were on the way to San +Cristobal.</p> +<p>This was startling news, and I questioned the messenger closely, +but all he could tell me was that the strangers had arrived in a +small boat, half famished and terribly thirsty, and had asked, in +broken Spanish, to be taken to the chief of the country, and that +he had been sent on to inform me of their coming.</p> +<p>“The abbé!” exclaimed Angela, “you +remember what he said about danger from the sea.”</p> +<p>“Yes; but there is nothing to fear from two hungry men in +a small boat—as I judge from the runner’s account, +shipwrecked mariners.”</p> +<p>“I don’t know; there’s no telling, they may be +followed by others, and unless we keep them here—”</p> +<p>“If necessary we must keep them here; as, however, they +are evidently not Spaniards it may not be necessary. But as to that +I can form no opinion till I have seen and questioned +them.”</p> +<p>We were still talking about them, for the incident was both +suggestive and exciting, when the strangers were brought in. As I +expected, they were seamen, in appearance regular old salts. One +was middle-sized, broad built, brawny, and large-limbed—a +squat Hercules, with big red whiskers, earrings and a pig-tail. His +companion was taller and less sturdy, his black locks hung in +ringlets on either side of a swarthy, hairless face, and the arms +and hands of both, as also their breasts were extensively +tattooed.</p> +<p>Their surprise on beholding Angela and me was almost ludicrous. +They might have been expecting to see a copper-colored cacique +dressed in war-paint and adorned with scalps.</p> +<p>“White! By the piper that played before Moses, +white!” muttered the red-whiskered man. “Who’d +ha’ thought it! A squaw in petticoats, too, with a gold chain +round her neck! Where the hangmant have we got to?”</p> +<p>“You are English?” I said, quietly.</p> +<p>“Well, I’ll be—yes, sir! I’m English, +name of Yawl, Bill Yawl, sir, of the port of Liverpool, at your +service. My mate, here, he’s a—”</p> +<p>“I’ll tell my own tale, if you please, Bill +Yawl,” interrupted the other as I thought rather +peremptorily. “My name is Kidd, and I’m a native of +Barbadoes in the West Indies, by calling, a mariner, and late +second mate of the brig Sulky Sail, Jones, master, bound from +Liverpool to Lima, with a cargo of hardware and cotton +goods.”</p> +<p>“And what has become of the Sulky Sail?”</p> +<p>“She went to the bottom, sir, three days ago.”</p> +<p>“But there has been no bad weather, lately.”</p> +<p>“Not lately. But we made very bad weather rounding the +Horn, and the ship sprang a leak, and though, by throwing cargo +overboard, and working hard at the pumps, we managed to keep her +afloat nearly a month; she foundered at last.”</p> +<p>“And are you the only survivors?”</p> +<p>“No, sir; the master and most of the crew got away in the +long boat. But as the ship went down the dinghy was swamped. Bill +and me managed to right her and get aboard again, but the others as +was with us got drowned.”</p> +<p>“And the long boat?”</p> +<p>“We lost each other in the night, and, having no water, +and only a tin of biscuits, Bill and me made straight for the +coast, and landed in the little cove down below this morning. All +we have is what we stand up in. And we shall feel much obliged if +you will kindly give us food and shelter until such time as we can +get away.”</p> +<p>On this I assured Mr. Kidd that I was sorry for their +misfortune, and would gladly find them food and lodging, and +whatever else they might require, but as for getting away, I did +not see how that was possible, unless by sea, and in their own +dinghy.</p> +<p>“We are very grateful for your kindness, sir; but I +don’t think we should much like to make another voyage in the +dinghy.”</p> +<p>“She ain’t seaworthy,” growled Yawl, +“you’ve to bale all the time, and if it came on to blow +she’d turn turtle in half a minute.”</p> +<p>“May be some vessel will be touching here, sir,” +suggested Kidd.</p> +<p>“Vessels never do touch here, except to be dashed in +pieces against the rocks.”</p> +<p>“Well, I suppose we shall have to wait till a chance +happens out. This seems a nice place, and we are in no hurry, if +you aren’t.”</p> +<p>So the two castaways became my guests; and if they waited to be +taken off by a passing ship they were likely to remain my guests as +long as they lived.</p> +<p>For a few days they rambled about the place with their hands in +their pockets and cigars (with which I supplied them liberally) in +their mouths. But after a while time began to hang heavy on their +hands, and one day they came to me with a proposal.</p> +<p>“We are tired of doing nothing, Mr. Fortescue,” said +Kidd.</p> +<p>“It is the hardest work I ever put my hand to, and not a +grog-shop in the place,” interposed Yawl.</p> +<p>“Hold your jaw, Bill, and let me say my say out. We are +tired of doing nothing, and if you like we will build you a +sloop.”</p> +<p>“A sloop! To go away in, I suppose?”</p> +<p>“That is as you please, sir. Anyhow, a sloop, say of +fifteen or twenty tons, would be very useful. You might take a sail +with your lady now and again, and explore the coast. Yawl has been +both ship’s carpenter and bo’son—he’ll boss +the job; and I’m a very fair amateur cabinet-maker. If you +want anything in that line doing at your house, sir, I shall be +glad to do it for you.”</p> +<p>The project pleased me; an occasional cruise would be an +agreeable diversion, and I assented to Kidd’s proposal +without hesitation. There was as much wreckage lying on the cliff +as would build a man-of-war, and a small cove at the foot of the +oasis where the sloop could lie safely at anchor.</p> +<p>So the work was taken in hand, some of my own people helping, +and after several months’ labor the Angela, as I proposed to +call her, was launched. She had a comfortable little cabin and so +soon as she was masted and rigged would be ready for sea.</p> +<p>In the mean time I asked Kidd to superintend some alterations I +was making at Alta Vista, and among other things construct larger +cabinets for my mineral and entomological specimens. He did the +work quite to my satisfaction, but before it was well finished I +made a portentous discovery—several of my diamonds were +missing. There could be no doubt about it, for I knew the number to +a nicety, and had counted them over and over again. Neither could +there be any doubt that Kidd was the thief. Besides my wife, +myself, and one or two of our servants, no one else had been in the +room; and our own people would not have taken the trouble to pick +up a diamond from the ground, much less steal one from my +house.</p> +<p>My first impulse was to accuse Kidd of the theft and have him +searched. And then I reflected that I was almost as much to blame +as himself. Assuming that he knew something of the value of +precious stones, I had exposed him to temptation by leaving so many +and of so great value in an open drawer. He might well suppose that +I set no store by them, and that half a dozen or so would never be +missed. So I decided to keep silence for the present and keep a +watch on Mr. Kidd’s movements. It might be that he and Yawl +were thinking to steal a march on me and sail away secretly with +the sloop, and perhaps something else. They had both struck up +rather close friendships with native women.</p> +<p>But as I did not want to lose any more of my diamonds, and there +was no place at Alta Vista where they would be safe so long as Kidd +was on the premises, I put them in a bag in the inside pocket of a +quilted vest which I always wore on my mountain excursions, my +intention being to take them on the following day down to San +Cristobal and bestow them in a secure hiding-place.</p> +<p>I little knew that I should never see San Cristobal again.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XXX" id="Ch_XXX">Chapter XXX.</a></h3> +<h2>The Quenching of Quipai.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>The cottage at Alta Vista had expanded little by little into a +long, single storied flat-roofed house, shaded by palm-trees and +set in a fair garden, which looked all the brighter from its +contrast with the brown and herbless hill-sides that uprose around +it.</p> +<p>In the after part of the day on which I discovered the theft, +Angela and myself were sitting under the veranda, which fronted the +house and commanded a view of the great reservoir, the oasis and +the ocean. She was reading aloud a favorite chapter in “Don +Quixote,” one of the few books we possessed. I was +smoking.</p> +<p>Angela read well; her pronunciation of Spanish was faultless, +and I always took particular pleasure in hearing her read the +idiomatic Castilian of Cervantes. Nevertheless, my mind wandered; +and, try as I might, I could not help thinking more of the theft of +the diamonds than the doughty deeds of the Don and the shrewd +sayings of Sancho Panza. Not that the loss gave me serious concern. +A few stones more or less made no great difference, and I should +probably never turn to account those I had. But the incident +revived suspicions as to the good faith of the two castaways, which +had been long floating vaguely in my mind. From the first I had +rather doubted the account they gave of themselves. And Kidd! I had +never much liked him; he had a hard inscrutable face, and unless I +greatly misjudged him was capable of bolder enterprises than petty +larceny. He was just the man to steal secretly away and return with +a horde of unscrupulous treasure-seekers, for he knew now that +there were diamonds in the neighborhood, and he must have heard +that we had found gold and silver ornaments and vessels in the old +cemetery—</p> +<p>“<em>Dios mio!</em> What is that?” exclaimed Angela, +dropping her book and springing to her feet, an example which I +instantly followed, for the earth was moving under us, and there +fell on our ears, for the first time, the dread sound of +subterranean thunder.</p> +<p>“An earthquake!”</p> +<p>But the alarm was only momentary. In less time than it takes to +tell the trembling ceased and the thunder died away.</p> +<p>“Only a slight shock, after all,” I said, “and +I hope we shall have no more. However, it is just as well to be +prepared. I will have the mules got out of the stable; and if there +is anything inside you particularly want you had better fetch it. I +will join you in the garden presently.”</p> +<p>As I passed through the house I saw Kidd coming out of the room +where I kept my specimens.</p> +<p>“What are you doing there?” I asked him, +sharply.</p> +<p>“I went for a tool I left there” (holding up a +chisel). “Did you feel the shock?”</p> +<p>“Yes, and there may be another. Tell Maximiliano to get +the mules out.”</p> +<p>“If he has been after the diamonds,” I thought, +“he must know that I have taken them away. I had better make +sure of them.” And with that I stepped into my room, put on +my quilted jacket, and armed myself with a small hatchet and a +broad-bladed, highly tempered knife, given to me by the +abbé, which served both as a dagger and a +<em>machete</em>.</p> +<p>When I had seen the mules safely tethered, and warned the +servants and others to run into the open if there should be another +shock, I returned to Angela, who had resumed her seat in the +veranda.</p> +<p>“Equipped for the mountains! Where away now, <em>caro +mio</em>?” she said, regarding me with some surprise.</p> +<p>“Nowhere. At any rate, I have no present intention of +running away. I have put on my jacket because of these diamonds, +and brought my hatchet and hunting-knife because, if the house +collapses, I should not be able to get them at the very time they +would be the most required.”</p> +<p>“If the house collapses! You think, then, we are going to +have a bad earthquake?”</p> +<p>“It is possible. This is an earthquake country; there has +been nothing more serious than a slight trembling since long before +the abbé died; and I have a feeling that something more +serious is about to happen. Underground thunder is always an +ominous symptom.—Ah! There it is again. Run into the garden. +I will bring the chairs and wraps.”</p> +<p>The house being timber built and one storied, I had little fear +that it would collapse; but anything may happen in an earthquake, +and in the garden we were safe from anything short of the ground on +which we stood actually gaping or slipping bodily down the +mountain-side.</p> +<p>The second shock was followed by a third, more violent than +either of its predecessors. The earth trembled and heaved so that +we could scarcely stand. The underground thunder became louder and +continuous and, what was even more appalling, we could distinctly +see the mountain-tops move and shake, as if they were going to fall +and overwhelm us.</p> +<p>But even this shock passed off without doing any material +mischief, and I was beginning to think the worst was over when one +of the servants drew my attention to the great reservoir. It smoked +and though there was no wind the water was white with foam and +running over the banks.</p> +<p>This went on several minutes, and then the water, as if yielding +to some irresistible force, left the sides, and there shot out of +it a gigantic jet nearly as thick as the crater was wide and +hundreds of feet high. It broke in the form of a rose and fell in a +fine spray, which the setting sun hued with all the colors of the +rainbow.</p> +<p>It was the most splendid sight I had ever seen and the most +portentous—for I knew that the crater had become active, and +remembering how long it had taken to fill I feared the worst.</p> +<p>The jet went on rising and falling for nearly an hour, but as +the mass of the water returned to the crater, very little going +over the sides, no great harm was done.</p> +<p>“Thank Heaven for the respite!” exclaimed Angela, +who had been clinging to me all the time, trembling yet courageous. +“Don’t you think the danger is now past, my +Nigel?”</p> +<p>“For us, it may be. But if the crater has really become +active. I fear that our poor people at San Cristobal will be in +very great danger indeed.”</p> +<p>“No! God alone—Hearken!”</p> +<p>A muffled peal of thunder which seemed to come from the very +bowels of the earth, followed by a detonation like the discharge of +an army’s artillery, and the sides of the crater opened, and +with a wild roar the pent-up torrent burst forth, and leaping into +the lake, rolled, a mighty avalanche of water, toward the doomed +oasis.</p> +<p>We looked at each other in speechless dismay. Nothing could +resist that terrible flood; it would sweep everything before it, +for, though its violence might be lessened before it reached the +sea, only the few who happened to be near the coast could escape +destruction.</p> +<p>Nobody spoke; the roar of the cataract deafened us, the +awfulness of the catastrophe made us dumb. We were as if stunned, +and I was conscious of nothing save a sickening sense of +helplessness and despair.</p> +<p>For an hour we stood watching the outpouring of the water. In +that hour Quipai was destroyed and its people perished.</p> +<p>As the blood-red sun sank into the bosom of the broad Pacific, a +great cloud of smoke and steam, mingled with stones and ashes, was +puffed out of the crater and a stream of fiery lava, bursting from +the breach in the side of the mountain, followed in the wake of the +water.</p> +<p>The uproar was terrific; explosion succeeded explosion; great +stones hurled through the air and fell back into the crater with a +din like discharges of musketry, and whenever there came a lull we +could hear the hissing of the water as it met the lava.</p> +<p>We remained in the garden the night through. Nobody thought of +going indoors; but after a while we became so weary with watching +and overwrought with excitement that, despite the danger and the +noise we could not keep our eyes open. Before the southern cross +began to bend we were all asleep, Angela and I wrapped in our +cobijas, the others on the turf and under the trees.</p> +<p>When I opened my eyes the sun was rising majestically above the +Cordillera, but its rays had not yet reached the ocean. I rose and +looked around. The crater was still smoking, and a mist hung over +the oasis, but the lava had ceased to flow, and not a zephyr moved +the air, not a tremor stirred the earth. Only the blackened throat +of the volcano and the ghastly rent in its side were there to +remind us of the havoc that had been wrought and the ruin of +Quipai.</p> +<p>I roused the people and bade them prepare breakfast, for though +thousands may perish in a night, the survivors must eat on the +morrow. The house, albeit considerably shaken, was still intact, +but several of the doors were so tightly jammed that I had to break +them open with my hatchet.</p> +<p>When breakfast was ready I woke Angela.</p> +<p>“Is it real, or have I been dreaming?” she asked, +with a shudder, looking wildly round.</p> +<p>“It is only too real,” I said, pointing to the +smoking crater.</p> +<p>“<em>Misericordia!</em> what shall we do?”</p> +<p>“First of all, we must go down to the oasis and see +whether any of the people are left alive.”</p> +<p>“You are right. When we have done what we can for the +others it will be time enough to think about ourselves.”</p> +<p>“Are there any others?” I thought, for I greatly +doubted whether we should find any alive, except, perhaps, Yawl and +the three or four men who were helping him. But I kept my +misgivings to myself, and after breakfast we set off. Angela and +myself were mounted, and I assigned a mule to Kidd. The man might +be useful, and, circumstanced as we were, it would have been bad +policy to give him the cold shoulder. We also took with us +provisions, clothing, and a tent, for I was by no means sure that +we should find either food or shelter on the oasis.</p> +<p>As we passed the volcano I looked into the crater. Nearly level +with the breach made by the water was a great mass of seething +lava, which I regarded as a sure sign that another eruption might +take place at any moment. The valley lake had disappeared; banks, +trees, soil, dwellings, all were gone, leaving only bare rocks and +burning lava. Of San Cristobal there was not a vestige; the oasis +had been converted into a damp and steaming gully, void of +vegetation and animal life. But, as I had anticipated, the force of +the flood was spent before it reached the coast. Much of the water +had overflowed into the desert and been absorbed by the sand, and +the little that remained was now sinking into the earth and being +evaporated by the sun.</p> +<p>For hours Angela and I rode on in silence; our distress was too +deep for words.</p> +<p>“Quipai is gone,” she murmured at length, shuddering +and looking at me with tear-filled eyes.</p> +<p>“Yes, gone and forever. As entirely as if it had never +been. It is worse than the carnage of a great battle. These poor +people! Nature is more cruel than man.”</p> +<p>“But surely! will you not try to restore the oasis and +re-create Quipai?”</p> +<p>“To do that, <em>cara mia</em>, would require another +Abbé Balthazar and sixty years of life. And to what end? +Sooner or later our work would be destroyed as his has been, even +if we were allowed to begin it. The volcano may be active for ages. +We must go.”</p> +<p>“Whither?”</p> +<p>“Back to the world, that in new scenes and occupation we +may perchance forget this crowning calamity.”</p> +<p>“It is something to have been happy so long.”</p> +<p>“It is much; it is almost everything. Whatever the future +may have in store for us, darling, nothing can deprive us of the +sunny memories of the past, and the happiness we have enjoyed at +Quipai.”</p> +<p>“True, and if this misfortune were not so +terrible—But God knows best. It ill becomes me, who never +knew sorrow before, to repine.—Yes, let us go. But +how?”</p> +<p>“By sea. I fear you would never survive the hazards and +hardships of a journey over the Cordillera, and dearly as I love +you—because I love you—I would rather have you die than +be captured by Indians and made the wife of some savage cacique. +Yes, we must go by sea, in the sloop built by these two castaways. +Yet, even in that there will be a serious risk; for if they suspect +I have the diamonds in my possession—and I am afraid the +suspicion is inevitable—they will probably—”</p> +<p>“What?”</p> +<p>“Try to murder us.”</p> +<p>“Murder us! For the diamonds?”</p> +<p>“Yes, my Angela, for the diamonds. In the world which you +have never seen men commit horrible crimes for insignificant gains, +and I have here in my pocket the value of a king’s ransom. +Even the average man could hardly withstand so great a temptation, +and all we know of these sailors is that one of them is a +thief.”</p> +<p>“What will you do then?”</p> +<p>“First of all, I must find a safer hiding-place for our +wealth than my pockets; and we must be ever on our guard. The +voyage will not be long, and we shall be three against +two.”</p> +<p>“Three! You will take Ramon, then?”</p> +<p>“Certainly—if he will go with us.”</p> +<p>“Of course he will. Ramon would follow you to the +world’s end. And the other sailor—Yawl—may have +been drowned in the flood.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think so. The flood did not go much farther +than this, and Yawl was busy with his boat. But we shall soon know; +the cliffs are in sight.”</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XXXI" id="Ch_XXXI">Chapter XXXI.</a></h3> +<h2>North by West.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Besides Yawl and his helpers, we found on the beach about thirty +men and women, the saved of two thousand. Among them was one of the +priests ordained by the abbé. All had lived in the lower +part of the oasis, and when the volcano began spouting water, after +the third earthquake, they fled to the coast and so escaped. Though +naturally much distressed (being bereft of home, kindred, and all +they possessed), they bore their misfortunes with the uncomplaining +stoicism so characteristic of their race.</p> +<p>The immediate question was how to dispose of these unfortunates. +I could not take them away in the sloop, and I knew that they would +prefer to remain in the neighborhood where they were born. But the +oasis was uninhabitable. A few weeks and it would be merged once +more in the desert from which it had been so painfully won. +Therefore I proposed that they should settle at Alta Vista under +charge of the priest. Alta Vista being above the volcano no +outburst of lava could reach them, and the <em>azequia</em> being +intact beyond that point they could easily bring more land under +cultivation and live in comfort and abundance.</p> +<p>To this proposal the survivors and the priest gladly and +gratefully assented. They were very good, those poor Indians, and +seemed much more concerned over our approaching departure than +their own fate, beseeching us, with many entreaties, not to leave +them. Angela would have yielded, but I was obdurate. I could not +see that it was in any sense our duty to bury ourselves in a remote +corner of the Andes for the sake of a score or two of Indians who +were very well able to do without us. What could be the good of +building up another colony and creating another oasis merely that +the evil genii of the mountains might destroy them in a night? Had +the abbé, instead of spending a lifetime in making Quipai, +devoted his energies to some other work, he might have won for +himself enduring fame and permanently benefited mankind. As it was, +he had effected less than nothing, and I was resolved not to court +his fate by following his example.</p> +<p>Those were the arguments I used to Angela, and in the end she +not only fully agreed with me that it was well for us to go, but +that the sooner we went the better. The means were at hand. Yawl +could have the yacht ready for sea within twenty-four hours. There +was little more to do than head the sails and get water and +provisions on board. I had the casks filled forthwith—for the +water in the channels was fast draining away—set some of the +people to work preparing <em>tasajo</em>, and sent Ramon with the +mules and two <em>arrieros</em> to Alta Vista for the remainder of +our clothing, bedding, and several other things which I thought +would be useful on the voyage.</p> +<p>Ramon, I may mention, was my own personal attendant. He had been +brought up and educated by Angela and myself, and was warmly +attached to us. In disposition he was bright and courageous, in +features almost European; there could be little doubt that he was +descended from some white castaway, who had landed on the coast and +been adopted by this tribe. He said it would break his heart if we +left him behind, so we took him with us, and he has ever since been +the faithful companion of my wanderings and my trusty friend.</p> +<p>My wife and I slept in our tent, Kidd and Yawl on the sloop. As +the sails were not bent nor the boat victualled, I had no fear of +their giving us the slip in the night. In the morning Ramon and the +<em>arrieros</em> returned with their lading, and by sunset we had +everything on board and was ready for a start.</p> +<p>The next thing was to settle our course. I wanted to reach a +port where I could turn some of my diamonds into cash and take +shipping for England, the West Indies, or the United States. We +were between Valparaiso and Callao, and the former place, as being +on the way, seemed the more desirable place to make for. But as the +prevailing winds on the coast are north and northwest a voyage in +the opposite direction would involve much beating up and nasty +fetches, and, in all probability, be long and tedious. For these +reasons I decided in favor of Callao, and told Kidd to shape our +course accordingly.</p> +<p>“Just as you like, sir,” he said; “it is all +the same to Yawl and me where we go. But it’s a longish +stretch to Callao. Don’t you think we had better make for +some nearer place? There’s Islay, and there’s Arica; +and I doubt whether our water will last out till we get to +Callao.”</p> +<p>“We must make it last till we get to Callao,” I +answered, sharply; “except under compulsion I will put in +neither at Islay nor Arica.”</p> +<p>“All right, sir! We are under your orders, and what you +say shall be done, as far as lies in our power.”</p> +<p>Kidd’s answer was civil but his manner was surly and +defiant, and it struck me that he might have some special reason +for desiring to avoid Callao. But I was resolved to go thither, so +that in case of need I might claim the protection of the British +consul, whom I was sure to find there. I was by no means sure that +I should find one either at Islay or Arica. I knew something of the +ways of Spanish revenue officers, and as I had no papers, it was +quite possible that (in the absence of a consul) I might be cast +into prison and plundered of all I possessed, especially if Mr. +Kidd should hint that it included a bag of diamonds.</p> +<p>The sloop’s accommodation for passengers was neither +extensive nor luxurious. The small cabin aft was just big enough to +hold Angela and myself, and once in it, we were like rats in a +hole, as, to get out, we had to climb an almost perpendicular +ladder. Kidd and Yawl were to sleep, turn and turn about, in a sort +of dog-house which they had contrived in the bows. Ramon would roll +himself in his <em>cobija</em> and sleep anywhere.</p> +<p>Before going on board I made such arrangements as I hoped would +insure us against foul play. I stitched one half of the diamonds in +my waist-belt; the other half my wife hid away in her dress. Among +the things brought down from Alta Vista was an exquisite little +dagger with a Damascened blade, which I gave to Angela. I had my +hunting-knife, and Ramon his <em>machete</em>.</p> +<p>I laid it down as a rule from which there was to be no +departure, that Ramon and I were neither to sleep at the same time +nor be in the cabin together, and that when we had anything +particular to say we should say it in Quipai. As it happened, he +knew a little English; I had taught my wife my mother-tongue, and +Ramon, by dint of hearing it spoken, and with a little instruction +from me and from her, had become so far proficient in the language +that he could understand the greater part of what was said. This, +however, was not known to Kidd and Yawl; I told him not to let them +know; but whenever opportunity occurred to listen to their +conversation, and report it to me. I thought that if they meditated +evil against us I might in this way obtain timely information of +their designs; and I considered that, in the circumstances (our +lives being, as I believed, in jeopardy), the expedient was quite +justifiable.</p> +<p>We sailed at sunset and got well away, and the clear sky and +resplendent stars, the calm sea and the fair soft wind augured well +for a prosperous voyage. Yet my heart was sad and my spirits were +low. The parting with our poor Indians had been very trying, and I +could not help asking myself whether I had acted quite rightly in +deserting them, whether it would not have been nobler (though +perhaps not so worldly wise) to throw in my lot with theirs and try +to recreate the oasis, as Angela had suggested. I also doubted +whether I was acting the part of a prudent man in embarking my +wife, my fortune, and myself on a wretched little sloop (which +would probably founder in the first storm), under the control of +two men of whom I knew no good, and who, as I feared, might play us +false?</p> +<p>But whether I had acted wisely or unwisely, there was no going +back now, and as I did not want Angela to perceive that I was +either dubious or downcast, I pulled myself together, put on a +cheerful countenance, and spoke hopefully of our prospects.</p> +<p>She was with us on deck, Kidd being at the helm.</p> +<p>“I have no very precise idea how far we maybe from +Callao,” I said, “but if this wind lasts we should be +there in five or six days at the outside. Don’t you think so, +Kidd?”</p> +<p>“May be. You still think of going to Callao, +then?”</p> +<p>“Still think of going to Callao! I am determined to go to +Callao. Why do you ask? Did not I distinctly say so before we +started?”</p> +<p>“I thought you had maybe changed your mind. And Callao +won’t be easy to make. Neither Yawl nor me has ever been +there; we don’t know the bearings, and we have no compass, +and I don’t know much about the stars in these +latitudes.”</p> +<p>“But I do, and better still, I have a compass.”</p> +<p>“A compass! Do you hear that, Bill Yawl? Mr. Fortescue has +got a compass. Go to Callao! Why, we can go a’most anywhere. +Where have you got it, sir—in the cabin?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Abbé Balthazar and I made it, ever so long +since. It is only rudely fashioned, and has never been adjusted, +but I dare say it will answer the purpose as well as +another.”</p> +<p>“Of course it will, and if you’ll kindly bring it +here, it’ll be a great help. I reckon if I keep her head +about—”</p> +<p>“Nor’ by west.”</p> +<p>“Ay, ay, sir, that’s it, I have no doubt. If I keep +her head nor’ by west, I dare say we shall fetch Callao as +soon as you was a-saying just now. But Bill and me should have the +compass before us when we’re steering; and to-morrow +we’ll try to rig up a bit of a binnacle. You, perhaps, would +not mind fetching it now, sir?—Bring that patent lantern of +yours, Bill.”</p> +<p>I fetched the compass and Yawl the lantern, made of a glass +bottle and a piece of copper sheeting (like the rest of our +equipments, the spoil of the sea).</p> +<p>Kidd was quite delighted with the compass, the card of which was +properly marked and framed in a block of wood, and said it could +easily be suspended on gimbals and fixed on a binnacle.</p> +<p>After a while, Angela, who felt tired, went below, and I with +her, but only to fetch my <em>cobija</em> and a pillow, for, as I +told Kidd, I intended to remain on deck all night, the cabin being +too close and stuffy for two persons. This was true, yet not the +whole truth. I had another reason; I saw that nothing would be +easier than for Kidd or Yawl to slip on the cabin-hatch while I was +below, and so have us at their mercy, for Ramon, though a stalwart +youth enough, could not contend with the two sailors +single-handed.</p> +<p>“Just as you like, sir; it’s all the same to +me,” answered Kidd, rather shortly, and then relapsed into +thoughtful silence.</p> +<p>I felt sure that he was scheming something which boded us no +good, though, as yet, I had no idea what it could be. His motive +for desiring to take the sloop to Islay or Arica, rather than to +Callao, was pretty obvious, but why he should change his mind on +the subject simply because of the compass, passed my comprehension. +We could make Callao merely by running up the coast, with which, +despite his disclaimer, I had not the least doubt he was quite +familiar; and even if he were not, there was nothing in a compass +to enlighten him.</p> +<p>But whatever his scheme might be I did not think he would +attempt to use force—unless he could take us at a +disadvantage. Man for man, Ramon and I were quite equal to Kidd and +Yawl. We were, moreover, better armed, as so far as I knew, they +had no weapons, save their sailors’ knives. In a personal +struggle, they might come off second best; were, in any case, +likely to get badly hurt, and unless I was much mistaken, they +wanted to get hold of my diamonds with a minimum of risk to +themselves. Wherefore, so long as we kept a sharp lookout, we had +little to fear from open violence. As for the scheme which was +seething in Kidd’s brain, I must needs wait for further +developments before taking measures to counteract it.</p> +<p>When I had come to this conclusion I told Ramon, in Quipai, to +lie down, and that when I wanted to sleep I would waken him.</p> +<p>I watched until midnight, at which hour Yawl relieved Kidd at +the helm, and Kidd turned in. Shortly afterward I roused Ramon, and +bade him keep watch while I slept.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XXXII" id="Ch_XXXII">Chapter XXXII.</a></h3> +<h2>Found Out.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>When I awoke it was broad daylight, Yawl at the helm, the sloop +bowling along at a great rate before a fresh breeze. But, to my +utter surprise, there was no land in sight.</p> +<p>“How is this, Yawl?” I asked; “we are out of +doors. How have you been steering?”</p> +<p>“The course you laid down sir, nor’ by +west.”</p> +<p>“That is impossible. I am not much of a seaman, yet I know +that if you had been steering nor’ by west, we should have +the coast under our lee, and we cannot even see the peaks of the +Cordillera.”</p> +<p>“Of course you cannot; they are covered with a +mist,” put in Kidd.</p> +<p>“I see no mist; moreover, the Cordillera is visible a +hundred miles away, and by good rights we should not be more than +thirty or forty miles from the coast.”</p> +<p>“It’s the fault of your compass, then. The darned +thing is all wrong. Better chuck it overboard and have done with +it.”</p> +<p>“If you do, I’ll chuck you overboard. The compass is +quite correct. You have been steering due west for some purpose of +your own, against my orders.”</p> +<p>“Oh, that’s your game, is it? You are the skipper, +and us a brace of lubbers as doesn’t know north from west, I +suppose. Let him sail the cursed craft hissel, Bill.”</p> +<p>Yawl let go the tiller, on which the sloop broached to and +nearly went on her beam ends. This was more than I could bear, and +calling on Ramon to follow me, I sprang forward, seized Kidd by the +throat, and, drawing my dagger, told him that unless he promised to +obey my orders and do his duty, I would make an end of him then and +there. Meanwhile, Ramon was keeping Yawl off with his +<em>machete</em>, flourishing it around his head in a way that made +the old salt’s hair nearly stand on end. Seeing that +resistance was useless, Kidd caved in.</p> +<p>“I ask your pardon, Mr. Fortescue,” he said, +hoarsely, for my hand was still on his throat. “I ask your +pardon, but I lost my temper, and when I lose my temper it’s +the very devil; I don’t know what I’m doing; but I +promise faithfully to obey your orders and do my duty.”</p> +<p>On this I loosed him, and bade Ramon put up his <em>machete</em> +and let Yawl go back to his steering. In one sense this was an +untoward incident. It made Kidd my personal enemy. Quite apart from +the question of the diamonds, he would bear me a grudge and do me +an ill turn if he could. He was that sort of a man. Henceforward it +would be war to the knife between us, and I should have to be more +on my guard than ever. On the other hand, it was a distinct +advantage to have beaten him in a contest for the mastery; if he +had beaten me, I should have had to accept whatever conditions he +might have thought fit to impose, for I was quite unable to sail +the sloop myself.</p> +<p>A light was thrown on his motive for changing the sloop’s +course by something Ramon had told me when the trouble was over. +Shortly before I awoke he heard Kidd say to Yawl that he would very +much like to know where I had hidden the diamonds, and that if they +could only keep her head due west, we should make San Ambrosio +about the same time that I was expecting to make Callao.</p> +<p>I had never heard of San Ambrosio before; but the fact of Kidd +wanting to go thither was reason enough for my not wanting to go, +so I bade Yawl steer due north, that is to say, parallel with the +coast, and as the continent of South America trends considerably to +the westward, about twenty degrees south of the equator, I reckoned +that this course should bring us within sight of land on the +following day, or the day after, according to the speed we +made.</p> +<p>I not only told Yawl and Kidd to steer north, but saw that they +did it, as to which, the compass being now always before us, there +was no difficulty. Thinking it was well to learn to steer, I took a +hand now and again at the tiller, under the direction of Kidd, +whose manners my recent lesson had greatly improved. He was very +affable, and obeyed my orders with alacrity and seeming +good-will.</p> +<p>The next day I began to look out for land, without, however, +much expectation of seeing any, but when a second day, being the +third of our voyage, ended with the same result or, rather, want of +result, I became uneasy, and expressed myself in this sense to +Kidd.</p> +<p>“You have miscalculated the distance,” he said, +“and there’s nothing so easy, when you’ve no +chart and can take no observations. And how can you tell the +sloop’s rate of sailing? The wind is fair and +constant—it always is in the trades—but how do you know +as there is not a strong current dead against us? I don’t +think there’s the least use looking for land before +to-morrow.”</p> +<p>This rather reassured me. It was quite true that the sloop might +not be going so fast as I reckoned, and the coast be farther off +than I thought—although I did not much believe in the +current.</p> +<p>But the morrow came and went, and still no sign of land, and +again, on the fifth day, the sun rose on an unbroken expanse of +water. In clear weather—and no weather could be +clearer—the Andes, as I had heard, were visible to mariners a +hundred and fifty miles out at sea. Yet not a peak could be seen. +Then I knew beyond a doubt that something was wrong. What could it +be? Sailing as swiftly as we had been for five days, it was +inconceivable that we should not have made land if we had been +steering north, and for that I had the evidence of my senses. +Where, then, was the mystery?</p> +<p>As I asked myself this question, Ramon touched me on the +shoulder, and whispered in Quipai:</p> +<p>“Just now Yawl said to Kidd that it was quite time we +sighted San Ambrosio, and that if we missed it, after all, it would +be cursed awkward. And Kidd answered that ‘if we fell in with +Hux it would be all right.’”</p> +<p>This was more puzzling still. He had said before that, if we +continued on the westward tack, we should make San Ambrosio at the +time I was expecting to sight Callao, and now, although we were +sailing due north, the villains counted on making San Ambrosio all +the same.</p> +<p>Where was San Ambrosio? Not on the coast, for they were clearly +looking for it then, had probably been looking for it some time, +and the mainland must be at least two hundred miles away. If not on +the coast San Ambrosio was an island, yet how it could lie both to +the west and to the north was not quite obvious. And who was Hux, +and why should falling in with him make matters all right for my +interesting shipmates? Of one thing I felt sure—all right for +these meant all wrong for me, and it behooved me to prevent the +meeting—but how?</p> +<p>While these thoughts were passing through my mind, I was pacing +to and fro on the sloop’s deck, where was also Angela, +sitting on a <em>cobija</em>, and leaning against the taffrail, +Kidd being at the helm, and Ramon and Yawl smoking in the bows, for +though they did not quite trust each other, they occasionally +exchanged a not unfriendly word. Now and then I glanced +mechanically at the compass. As I have already mentioned, it was +not an ordinary ship compass in a brass frame, but a makeshift +affair, in a wooden frame, to which Kidd had attached makeshift +gimbals and hung on a makeshift binnacle, the latter being fixed +between the tiller and the cabin-hatch. The deck was very narrow, +and to lengthen my tether I generally passed between the tiller and +the binnacle, sometimes exchanging a word with Angela. Once, as I +did so, the sun’s rays fell athwart the sloop’s stern, +and, happening the same moment to look at the compass, I made a +discovery that sent the blood with sudden rush first to my heart +and then to my brain; a small piece of iron, invisible in an +ordinary light, had been driven into the framework of the compass, +close to that part of the card marked “W,” thereby +deflecting the needle to the point in question, so that ever since +our departure from Quipai, we had been steering due west, instead +of north by west, as I intended and believed. The dodge might not +have deceived a seaman, but it had certainly deceived me.</p> +<p>“You infernal scoundrel, I have found you out. Look +there!” I shouted, pointing at the piece of iron. As I spoke +Kidd let go the tiller, and quick as lightning gave me a tremendous +blow with his fist between the shoulders, which just missed +throwing me head foremost down the cabin-hatch, and sent me face +downward on the deck breathless and half stunned. Before I could +even think of rising, Kidd, who, as he struck, shouted to Yawl to +“kill the Indian,” was kneeling on my back with his +fingers round my windpipe.</p> +<p>“At last! I have you now, you conceited jackanapes, you +d—d sea-lawyer. Where have you got them diamonds? You +won’t answer! Shall I throttle you, or brain you with this +belaying-pin? I’ll throttle you; then there’ll be none +of your dirty blood to swab up.”</p> +<p>With that the villain squeezed my windpipe still tighter, and +quite unable either to struggle or speak, I was giving myself up +for lost, when his hold suddenly relaxed, and groaning deeply, he +sank beside me on the deck. Freed from his weight, I staggered to +my feet to find that I owed my life to Angela, who had used her +dagger to such purpose that Kidd was like never to speak again.</p> +<p>“Ramon! Ramon! Haste, or that man will kill him,” +she cried, all in a tremble, and pale with horror at the thought of +her own boldness.</p> +<p>Yawl’s onslaught was so sudden that the boy had been +unable to draw his <em>machete</em>, and after a desperate bout of +tugging and straining, the sailor had got the upper-hand and was +now kneeling on Ramon’s chest, and feeling for his knife. +Though sorely bruised with my fall, and still gasping for breath, I +ran to the rescue, and gripping Yawl by the shoulders, bore him +backward on the deck. Another moment, and we had him at our mercy; +I held down his head, while Ramon, astride on his body, pinioned +his arms.</p> +<p>“Now, look here, Yawl!” I said. “You have +tried to commit murder and deserve to die; your comrade and +accomplice is dead, but I will spare your life on conditions. You +must promise to obey my orders as if I were your captain, and you +under articles of war, and help me to work the sloop to Callao, or +some other port on the mainland. In return, I promise not to bring +any charge against you when we get there.”</p> +<p>“All right, sir! Kidd was my master, and I obeyed him; now +you are my master and I will obey you.”</p> +<p>I quite believed that the old salt was speaking sincerely. He +had been so completely under Kidd’s influence as to have no +will of his own.</p> +<p>“Good! but there is something else. I must have those +diamonds he stole from my house at Alta Vista. Where are +they?”</p> +<p>“Stitched inside his jersey, under the +arm-hole.”</p> +<p>I went to Kidd’s body, cut open his jersey, and found the +diamonds in two small canvas bags. They were among the largest I +had and (as I subsequently found) worth fifty thousand pounds. +After we had thrown the body overboard, I ordered Yawl to put the +sloop on the starboard tack, and myself taking the helm changed the +course to due north. Then I asked him who he and Kidd were, whence +they came, and why they had so shamefully deceived me as to the +course we were steering.</p> +<p>On this Yawl answered in a dry, matter-of-fact manner, as if it +were all in the way of business, that Kidd had been captain and he +boatswain and carpenter of a “free-trader,” known as +the Sky Scraper, Sulky Sail, and by several other aliases; that the +captain and crew fell out over a division of plunder, of which Kidd +wanted the lion’s share, the upshot being that he and Yawl, +who had taken sides with him, were shoved into the dinghy and sent +adrift. In these circumstances they naturally made for the nearest +land, which proved to be Quipai, and deeming it inexpedient to +confess that they were pirates, pretended to be castaways. They +built the sloop with the idea of stealing away by themselves, and +but for my discovery of the theft of the diamonds and the bursting +of the crater would have done so. As I suspected, Kidd allowed us +to go with them, solely with a view to cutting our throats and +appropriating the remainder of the diamonds. This design being +frustrated by our watchfulness, he next conceived the notion of +putting in at Arica or Islay, charging me with robbing him, and, in +collusion with the authorities, whom he intended to bribe, +depriving me of all I possessed. This plan likewise failing, and +having a decided objection to Callao, where he was known and where +there might be a British cruiser as well as a British consul, Kidd +hit on the brilliant idea of doctoring the compass and making me +think we were going north by west, while our true course was almost +due west, his object being to reach San Ambrosio, a group of rocky +islets some three hundred miles from the coast, and a pirate +stronghold and trysting-place. If they did not find any old +comrades there, they would at least find provisions, water, and +firearms, and so be able, as they thought, to despoil me of my +diamonds. Also Kidd had hopes of falling in with Captain Hux, a +worthy of the same kidney, who commanded the +“free-trader” Culebra, and whose favorite +cruising-ground was northward of San Ambrosio.</p> +<p>“But in my opinion,” observed Mr. Yawl, coolly, when +he had finished his story, “in my opinion we passed south of +the islands last night, and so I told Kidd; they’re very +small, and as there’s no lights, easy missed.”</p> +<p>“We must be a long way from Callao, then. How far do you +suppose?”</p> +<p>“That is more than I can tell; may be four hundred +miles.”</p> +<p>“And how long do you think it will take us to get there, +assuming it to be four hundred miles?”</p> +<p>“Well, on this tack and with this breeze—you see, +sir, the wind has fallen off a good deal since sunrise—with +this breeze, about eight days.”</p> +<p>“Eight days!” I exclaimed, in consternation. +“Eight days! and I don’t think we have food and water +enough for two. Come with me below, Ramon, and let me see how much +we have left.”</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XXXIII" id="Ch_XXXIII">Chapter XXXIII.</a></h3> +<h2>Grief and Pain.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>It was even worse than I feared. Reckoning neither on a longer +voyage than five or six days nor on being so far from the coast +that, in case of emergency, we could not obtain fresh supplies, we +had used both provisions and water rather recklessly, and now I +found that of the latter we had no more than, at our recent rate of +consumption, would last eighteen hours, while of food we had as +much as might suffice us for twenty-four. It was necessary to +reduce our allowance forthwith, and I put it to Yawl whether we +could not make for some nearer port than Callao. Better risk the +loss of my diamonds than die of hunger and thirst. Yawl’s +answer was unfavorable. The nearest port of the coast as to +distance was the farthest as to time. To reach it, the wind being +north by west, we should have to make long fetches and frequent +tacks, whereas Callao, or the coast thereabout, could be reached by +sailing due north. So there seemed nothing for it but to economize +our resources to the utmost and make all the speed we could. Yet, +do as we might, it was evident that, unless we could obtain a +supply of food and water from some passing ship we should have to +put ourselves on a starvation allowance. I was, however, much less +concerned for myself and the others, than for Angela. Accustomed as +she had been to a gentle, uneventful, happy life, the catastrophe +of Quipai, the anxieties we had lately endured, and the confinement +of the sloop, were telling visibly on her health. Moreover, +Kidd’s death, richly as he deserved his fate, had been a +great shock to her. She strove to be cheerful, and displayed +splendid courage, yet the increasing pallor of her cheeks and the +sadness in her eyes, showed how much she suffered. We men stinted +ourselves of water that she might have enough, but seeing this she +declined to take more than her share, often refusing to drink when +she was tormented with thirst.</p> +<p>And then there befell an accident which well-nigh proved fatal +to us all. A gust of wind blew the mainsail (made of grass-cloth) +into ribbons, the consequence being that our rate of sailing was +reduced to two knots an hour, and our hope of reaching Callao to +zero.</p> +<p>Meanwhile, Angela grew weaker and weaker, she fell into a low +fever, was at times even delirious, and I began to fear that, +unless help speedily came, a calamity was imminent, which for me +personally would be worse than the quenching of Quipai. And when we +were at the last extremity, mad with thirst and feeble with +fasting, help did come. One morning at daylight Yawl sighted a +sail—a large vessel a few miles astern of us, but a point or +two more to the west, and on the same tack as ourselves. We altered +the sloop’s course at once so as to bring her across the +stranger’s bows, for having neither ensign to reverse, nor +gun wherewith to fire a signal of distress, it was a matter of life +and death for us to get within hailing-distance.</p> +<p>“What is she! Can you make her out?” I asked Yawl, +as trembling with excitement, we looked longingly at the noble ship +in which centered our hopes.</p> +<p>“Three masts! A merchantman? No, I’m blest if I +don’t think she’s a man-of-war. So she is, a frigate +and a firm ’un—forty or fifty guns, I should +say.”</p> +<p>“Under what flag?”</p> +<p>“I’ll tell you in a minute—Union Jack! No, +stars and stripes. She belongs to Uncle Sam, she do, sir, and +he’s no call to be ashamed of her; she’s a perfect +beauty and well handled. By—I do believe they see us. They +are shortening sail. We shall be alongside in a few +minutes.”</p> +<p>“Who are you and what do you want?” asked a voice +from the frigate, so soon as we were within hail.</p> +<p>“We are English and starving. For God’s sake, throw +us a rope!” I answered.</p> +<p>The rope being thrown and the sloop made fast, I asked the +officer of the watch to take us on board the frigate, as seeing the +condition of our boat and ourselves, I did not think we could +possibly reach our destination, that my wife was very sick, and +unless she could have better attention than we were able to give +her, might not recover.</p> +<p>“Of course we will take you on board—and the poor +lady. Pass the word for the doctor, you there! But what on earth +are you doing with a lady in a craft like that, so far out at sea, +too?”</p> +<p>Without waiting for an answer to his question, the officer +ordered a hammock to be lowered, in which we carefully placed +Angela, who was thereupon hoisted on the frigate’s deck. We +men followed, and were received by a fine old gentleman with a +florid face and white hair, whom I rightly conjectured to be the +captain.</p> +<p>“Well,” he said, quietly, “what can I do for +you?”</p> +<p>“Water,” I gasped, for the exertion of coming on +board had been almost too much for me.</p> +<p>“Poor fellow! Certainly. Why did I not think of it before? +You shall have both food and drink. Somebody bring water with a +dash of rum in it—not too much, they are weak. And Mr. +Charles, tell the wardroom steward to get a square meal ready for +this gentleman. Might I ask your name, sir?”</p> +<p>“Nigel Fortescue.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, Mr. Fortescue. Mine is Bigelow, and I have the +honor to command the United States ship Constellation. Here’s +the water! I hope you have not forgotten the dash of rum, +Tomkins.—There! Take a long drink. You will feel better now, +and when you have had a square meal, you shall tell me all about +it. And the others? You are an old salt, anybody can see +that.”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. Bill Yawl at your service, an old +man-o’-war’s man, able-bodied seaman, +bo’s’n, and ship’s carpenter, anything you like +sir. Ax your pardon, sir, but a glass of half-water +grog—”</p> +<p>“Not until you have eaten. Then you may have two glasses. +Tomkins, take these men to the purser and tell him to give them a +square meal. The doctor is attending to your wife, Mr. Fortescue. +She is in my state-room and shall have every comfort we can give +her.”</p> +<p>“I thank you with all my heart, Captain Bigelow. You are +really too good, I can never—”</p> +<p>“Tut, tut, tut, my dear sir. Pray don’t say a word. +I have only given her my spare state-room. Mr. Charles will take +you to the ward-room, we can talk afterward. Meanwhile, I shall +have your belongings got on board, and then, I suppose, we had +better sink that craft of yours. If we leave her to knock about the +ocean she may be knocking against some ship in the night and doing +her a mischief.”</p> +<p>After I had eaten the “square meal” set for me in +the ward-room, and spent a few minutes with Angela, I joined the +captain and first lieutenant in the former’s state-room, and +over a glass of grog, told them briefly, but frankly, something of +my life and adventures.</p> +<p>“Well, it is the queerest yarn I ever heard; but I dare +say none the less true on that account,” said Captain +Bigelow, when I had finished. “With that sweet lady for your +wife and your belt full of diamonds, you may esteem yourself one of +the most fortunate of men. And you did quite right to get away from +that place. But what was your point? where did you expect to get to +with that sloop of yours?”</p> +<p>“Callao.”</p> +<p>“Callao! Why the course you were on would never have taken +you to Callao. Callao lies nor’ by east, not nor’ by +west. If you had not fallen in with us, I am afraid you would never +have got anywhere.”</p> +<p>“I am sure we should not. Three days more and we should +have died of thirst.”</p> +<p>“Where shall we put you ashore?”</p> +<p>“That is for you to say. Where would it be +convenient?”</p> +<p>“How would Panama suit you?”</p> +<p>“It is just the place. We could cross the isthmus to +Chagres; but before going to England, I should like to call at La +Guayra, and find out whether my friend Carmen still +lives.”</p> +<p>“You can do that easily; but if I were you, and had all +those diamonds in my possession, I would get home as quickly as +possible, and put them in a place of safety. There are men who +would commit a thousand murders for one of them.”</p> +<p>“Well, I shall see. Perhaps I had better consign them to +London through some merchant, and have them insured.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps you had, especially if you can get somebody to +insure the insurer. And take my advice, don’t tell a soul on +board what you have told us. My crew are passably honest, but if +they knew how many diamonds you carried about you, I should be very +sorry to go bail for them.”</p> +<p>As I went on deck after our talk, I was met by the surgeon.</p> +<p>“A word with you, Mr. Fortescue,” he said, gravely, +taking me aside, “your wife—”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir, what about my wife?” I asked, with a +sudden sinking of the heart, for the man’s manner was even +more portentous than his words.</p> +<p>“She is very ill.”</p> +<p>“She was very ill, and if we had remained longer on the +sloop—but now—with nourishing food and your care, +doctor, she will quickly regain her strength. Indeed, she is better +already.”</p> +<p>“For the moment. But she is very much reduced and the +symptoms are grave. A recurrence of the fever—”</p> +<p>“But such a fever is so easily cured. I know what you are +hinting at, doctor. Yet I cannot think—You will not let her +die. After surmounting so many dangers, and being so miraculously +rescued, and with prospects so fair, it would be too +cruel.”</p> +<p>“I will do my best, sir, you may be sure. But I thought it +my duty to prepare you for the worst. The issue is with +God.”</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>This is a part of my story on which I care not to dwell. Even +yet I cannot think of it without grief and pain. My dear wife was +taken from me. She died in my arms, her hand in mine, as sweetly +and serenely as she had lived. But for Captain Bigelow and his +officers I should have buried myself with Angela in the fathomless +sea. I owed him my life a second time—such as it +was—more, for he taught me the duty and grace of resignation, +showed me that, though to cherish the memory of a great sorrow +ennobles a man, he who abandons himself to unmeasured grief is as +pusillanimous as he who shirks his duty on the field of battle.</p> +<p>Captain Bigelow had a great heart and a chivalrous nature. After +Angela’s death he treated me more as a cherished son than as +a casual guest. Before we reached Panama we were fast friends. He +provided me with clothing and gave me money for my immediate wants, +as to have attempted to dispose of any of my diamonds there, or at +Chagres, might have exposed me to suspicion, possibly to danger. In +acknowledgement of his kindness and as a souvenir of our +friendship, I persuaded him to accept one of the finest stones in +my collection, and we parted with mutual assurances of goodwill and +not without hope of meeting again.</p> +<p>Ramon of course, went with me. Bill Yawl, equally of of course, +I left behind. He had slung his hammock in the +Constellation’s fo’castle, and became captain of the +foretop.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XXXIV" id="Ch_XXXIV">Chapter XXXIV.</a></h3> +<h2>Old Friends and a New Foe.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>I had made up my mind to see Carmen, if he still lived; and +finding at Chagres a schooner bound for La Guayra I took passages +in her for myself and Ramon, all the more willingly as the captain +proposed to put in at Curaçoa. It occurred to me that Van +Voorst, the Dutch merchant in whose hands I had left six hundred +pounds, would be a likely man to advise me as to the disposal of my +diamonds—if he also still lived.</p> +<p>Rather to my surprise, for people die fast in the tropics, I did +find the old gentleman alive, but he had made so sure of my death +that my reappearance almost caused his. The pipe he was smoking +dropped from his mouth, and he sank back in his chair with an +exclamation of fear and dismay.</p> +<p>“Yor need not be alarmed, Mynheer Van Voorst,” I +said; “I am in the flesh.”</p> +<p>“I am glad to see you in the flesh. I don’t believe +in ghosts, of course. But I happened to be in what you call a brown +study, and as I had heard you were shot long ago on the llanos you +rather startled me, coming in so quietly—that rascally boy +ought to have announced you. But I was not afraid—not in the +least. Why should one be afraid of a ghost! And I saw at a glance +that, as you say, you were in the flesh. I suppose you have come to +inquire about your money. It is quite safe, my dear sir, and at +your disposal, and you will find that it has materially increased. +I will call for the ledger, and you shall see.”</p> +<p>The ledger was brought in by a business-looking young man, whom +the old merchant introduced to me as his nephew and partner, +Mynheer Bernhard Van Voorst.</p> +<p>“This is Mr. Fortescue, Bernhard,” he said, +“the English gentleman who was dead—I mean that I +thought he was dead, but is alive—and who many years ago left +in my hands a sum of about two thousand piasters. Turn to his +account and see how much there is now to his credit?”</p> +<p>“At the last balance the amount to Mr. Fortescue’s +credit was six thousand two hundred +piasters.”<sup>2</sup><span class="sidenote">2. At the time +in question, “piaster” was a word often used as an +equivalent for “dollar,” both in the “Gulf +ports” and the West Indies.</span></p> +<p>“You see! Did I not say so? Your capital is more than +doubled.”</p> +<p>“More than doubled! How so?”</p> +<p>“We have credited you with the colonial rate of +interest—ten per cent.—as was only right, seeing that +you had no security, and we had used the money in our business; and +my friend, compound interest at ten per cent, is a great +institution. It beats gold-mining, and is almost as profitable as +being President of the Republic of Venezuela. How will you take +your balance, Mr. Fortescue? We will have the account made up to +date. I can give you half the amount in hard money—coin is +not too plentiful just now in Curaçoa, half in drafts at +seven days’ sight on the house of Goldberg, Van Voorst & +Company, at Amsterdam, or Spring & Gerolstein, at London. They +are a young firm, but do a safe business and work with a large +capital.”</p> +<p>“I am greatly obliged to you but all I require at present +is about five hundred piasters, in hard money.”</p> +<p>“Ah then, you have made money where you have been?” +observed Mr. Van Voorst, eying me keenly through his great horn +spectacles.</p> +<p>“Not money, but money’s worth,” I replied, for +I had quite decided to make a confident of the honest old Dutchman, +whom I liked all the better for going straight to the point without +asking too many questions.</p> +<p>“Then it must be merchandise and merchandise is +money—sometimes.”</p> +<p>“Yes, it is merchandise.”</p> +<p>“If it be readily salable in this island or on the Spanish +Main we shall be glad to receive it from you on consignment and +make you a liberal advance against bills of lading. Hardware and +cotton prints are in great demand just now, and if it is anything +of that sort we might sell it to arrive.”</p> +<p>“It is nothing of that sort, Mr. Van Voorst.”</p> +<p>“More portable, perhaps?”</p> +<p>“Yes, more portable.”</p> +<p>“If you could show me a sample—”</p> +<p>“I can show you the bulk.”</p> +<p>“You have got it in the schooner?”</p> +<p>“No, I have got it here.”</p> +<p>“Gold dust?”</p> +<p>“Diamonds. I found them in the Andes, and shall be glad to +have your advice as to their disposal.”</p> +<p>“Diamonds! Ach! you are a happy man. If you would like to +show me them I can perhaps give you some idea of their value. The +house of Goldberg & Van Voorst, at Amsterdam, in which I was +brought up, deal largely in precious stones.”</p> +<p>On this I undid my belt and poured the diamonds on a large sheet +of white paper, which Mr. Van Voorst spread on his desk.</p> +<p>“<em>Mein Gott! Mein Gott!</em>” he exclaimed in +ecstacy, glaring at the diamonds through his big glasses and +picking out the finest with his fat fingers. “This is the +finest collection of rough stones I ever did see. They are +worth—until they are weighed and cut it is impossible to say +how much—but at least a million dollars, probably two +millions. You found them in the Andes? You could not say where, +could you, Mr. Fortescue?”</p> +<p>“I could, but I would rather not.”</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon. I should have known better than to +ask. You intend to go there again, of course?”</p> +<p>“Never! It would be at the risk of my life—and there +are other reasons.”</p> +<p>“There is no need. You are rich already, and enough is as +good as a feast. You ask my advice as to the disposal of these +stones. Well, my advice is that you consign them, through us, to +the house of Goldberg, Van Voorst & Company. They are honest +and experienced. They will get them cut and sell them for you at +the highest price. They are, moreover, one of the richest houses in +Amsterdam, trustworthy without limit. What do you say?”</p> +<p>“Yes, I will act on your advice, and consign these stones +to your friends for sale at Amsterdam, or elsewhere, as they may +think best. And be good enough to ask them to advise me as to the +investment of the proceeds.”</p> +<p>“They will do that with pleasure, mine friend, and having +financial relations with every monetary centre in Europe they +command the best information. And now we must count and weigh these +stones carefully, and I shall give you a receipt in proper form. +They must be shipped in three or four parcels so as to divide the +risk, and I will write to Goldberg & Van Voorst to take out +open policies ‘by ship or ships’—for how much +shall we say?”</p> +<p>“That I must leave to you, Mr. Van Voorst.”</p> +<p>“Then I will say two million dollars—better make it +too much than too little—and two millions may not be too +much. I do not profess to be an expert, and, as likely as not, my +estimate is very wide of the mark.”</p> +<p>After the diamonds had been counted and weighed, and a receipt +written out, in duplicate and in two languages, I informed Mr. Van +Voorst of my intention to visit Caracas and asked whether things +were pretty quiet there.</p> +<p>“At Caracas itself, yes. But in the interior they are +fighting, as usual. The curse of Spanish rule has been succeeded by +the still greater curse of chronic revolution.”</p> +<p>“But foreigners are admitted, I suppose? I run no risk of +being clapped in prison as I was last time?”</p> +<p>“Not the least. You can go and come as you please. You +don’t even require a passport. The Spaniards, who were once +so hated, are now almost popular. I hear that several Spanish +officers, who served in the royal army during the war, are now at +Caracas, and have offered their swords to the government for the +suppression of the present rebellion. Do you intend to stay long in +Venezuela?”</p> +<p>“I think not. In any case I shall see you before I leave +for Europe. Much depends on whether I find my friend Carmen +alive.”</p> +<p>“Carmen, Carmen! I seem to know the name. Is he a +general?”</p> +<p>“Scarcely, I should think. He was only a <em>teniente</em> +of guerillas when we parted some ten years ago.”</p> +<p>“They are all generals now, my dear sir, and as plentiful +as frogs in my native land. If you are ever in doubt as to the rank +of a Venezolano, you are always safe in addressing him as a +general. Yes, I fancy you will find your friend alive. At any rate, +there is a General Carmen, rather a leading man among the Blues, I +think, and sometimes spoken of as a probable president. You will, +of course, put up at the Hotel de los Generales. Ah, here is +Bernhard with the five hundred dollars in hard money, for which you +asked. If you should want more, draw on us at sight. I will give +you a letter of introduction to the house of Blühm & +Bluthner at Caracas, who will be glad to cash your drafts at the +current rate of exchange, and to whose care I will address any +letters I may have occasion to write to you.”</p> +<p>This concluded my business with Mr. Van Voorst, and three days +later I was once more in Caracas. I found the place very little +altered, less than I was myself. I had entered it in high spirits, +full of hope, eager for adventure, and intent on making my fortune. +Now my heart was heavy with sorrow and bitter with disappointment. +Though I had made my fortune, I had lost, as I thought, both the +buoyancy of youth and the capacity for enjoyment, and I looked +forward to the future without either hope or desire.</p> +<p>As I rode with Ramon into the <em>patio</em> of the hotel, where +I had been arrested by the alguazils of the Spanish governor, a man +came forward to greet me, so strikingly like the ancient +<em>posadero</em> that I felt sure he was the latter’s son. +My surmise proved correct, and I afterwards heard, not without a +sense of satisfaction, that the father was hanged by the patriots +when they recaptured Caracas.</p> +<p>After I had engaged my rooms the <em>posadero</em> informed me +(in answer to my inquiry) that General Salvador Carmen (this could +be none other than my old friend) was with the army at La Victoria, +but that he had a house at Caracas where his wife and family were +then residing. He also mentioned incidentally that several Spanish +officers of distinction, who had arrived a few days previously, +were staying in the <em>posada</em>—doubtless the same spoken +of by Van Voorst.</p> +<p>The day being still young, for I had left La Guayra betimes, I +thought I could not do better than call on Juanita, who lived only +a stone’s throw from the Hotel de los Generales. She +recognized me at once and received me—almost +literally—with open arms. When I essayed to kiss her hand, +she offered me her cheek.</p> +<p>“After this long time! It is a miracle!” she +exclaimed. “We mourned for you as one dead; for we felt sure +that if you were living we should have had news of you. How glad +Salvador will be! Where have you been all this time, and why, oh +why, did you not write?”</p> +<p>“I have been in the heart of the Andes, and I did not +write because I was as much cut off from the world as if I had been +in another planet.”</p> +<p>“You must have a long story to tell us, then. But I am +forgetting the most important question of all. Are you still a +bachelor?”</p> +<p>“Worse than that, Juanita. I am a widower. I have lost the +sweetest wife—”</p> +<p>“<em>Misericordia! Misericordia! Pobre amigo mio!</em> Oh, +how sorry I am; how much I pity you!” And the dear lady, now +a stately and handsome matron, fell a-weeping out of pure +tenderness, and I had to tell her the sad story of the quenching of +Quipai and Angela’s death. But the telling of it, together +with Juanita’s sympathy, did me good, and I went away in much +better spirits than I had come. Salvador, she said, would be back +in a few days, and she much regretted not being able to offer me +quarters; it was contrary to the custom of the place and Spanish +etiquette for ladies to entertain gentlemen visitors during their +husbands’ absence.</p> +<p>After leaving Juanita I walked round by the guard-house in which +I had been imprisoned, and through the ruins where Carmen and I had +hidden when we were making our escape. They suggested some stirring +memories—Carera (who, as I learned from Juanita, had been +dead several years) and his chivalrous friendship; Salvador and his +reckless courage; our midnight ride; Gahra and the bivouac by the +mountain-tarn (poor Gahra, what had become of him?); Majia and his +guerillas; Griscelli and his blood-hounds (how I hated that man, +but surely by this time he had got his deserts); Gondocori and +Queen Mamcuna; the man-killer; and Quipai.</p> +<p>My mind was still busied with these memories when I reached the +hotel. There seemed to be much more going on than there had been +earlier in the day—horsemen were coming and going, servants +hurrying to and fro, people promenading on the <em>patio</em>, a +group of uniformed officers deep in conversation. One of them, a +tall, rather stout man, with grizzled hair, a pair of big +epaulettes, and a coat covered with gold lace, had his back toward +me, and as my eye fell on his sword-hilt it struck me that I had +seen something like it before. I was trying to think where, when +the owner of it turned suddenly round, and I found myself face to +face with—GRISCELLI!!</p> +<p>For some seconds we stared at each other in blank amazement. I +could see that though he recognized me, he was trying to make +believe that he did not; or, perhaps, he really doubted whether I +was the man I seemed.</p> +<p>“That is my sword,” I said, pointing to the weapon +by his side, which had been given to me by Carera.</p> +<p>“Your sword! What do you mean?” “You took it +from me eleven years ago, when I fell into your hands at San +Felipe, and you hunted my friend Carmen and myself with +bloodhounds.”</p> +<p>“What folly is this? Hunted you with bloodhounds, +forsooth! Why, this is the first time I ever set eyes on +you—the man is mad—or drunk” (addressing his +friends).</p> +<p>“You lie, Griscelli; and you are not a liar merely, but a +murderer and a coward.”</p> +<p>“<em>Por Dios</em>, you shall pay for this insult with +your heart’s blood!” he shouted, furiously, half +drawing his sword.</p> +<p>“It is like you to draw on an unarmed man.” I said, +laying hold of his wrist. “Give me a sword, and you shall +make me pay for the insult with my blood—if you can. +Señores” (by this time all the people in the +<em>patio</em> had gathered round us), “Señores, are +there here any Venezuelan caballeros who will bear me out in this +quarrel. I am an Englishman, by name Fortescue; eleven years ago, +while serving under General Mejia on the patriot side, I fell into +the hands of General Griscelli, who deprived me of the sword he now +wears, which I received as a present from Señor Carera, +whose name you may remember. Then, after deceiving us with false +promises—my friend General Carmen and myself—he hunted +us with his bloodhounds, and we escaped as by a miracle. Now he +protests that he never saw me before. What say you, señores, +am I not right in stigmatizing him as a murderer and +liar?”</p> +<p>“Quite right!” said a middle-aged, soldierly-looking +man. I also served in the war of liberation, and remember +Griscelli’s name well. It would serve him right to poniard +him on the spot.”</p> +<p>“No, no. I want no murder. I demand only +satisfaction.”</p> +<p>“And he shall give it you or take the consequences. I will +gladly act as one witness, and I am sure my friend here, +Señor Don Luis de Medina, who is also a veteran of the war, +will act as the other. Will you fight, Griscelli?”</p> +<p>“Certainly—provided that we fight at once, and to +the death. You can arrange the details with my friends +here.”</p> +<p>“Be it so.” I said, “<em>A la +muerte.</em>”</p> +<p>“To the death! To the death!” shouted the crowd, +whose native ferocity was now thoroughly roused.</p> +<p>After a short conference and a reference to Griscelli and +myself, the seconds announced that we were to fight with swords in +Señor de Medina’s garden, whither we straightway +wended, for there were no police to meddle with us, and at that +time duels <em>a la muerte</em> were of daily occurrence in the +city of Caracas. When we arrived at the garden, which was only a +stone’s-throw walk from the <em>posada</em>, Señor de +Medina produced two swords with cutting edges, and blades five feet +long; for we were to fight in Spanish fashion, and Spanish duelists +both cut and thrust, and, when occasion serves, use the left hand +as a help in parrying.</p> +<p>Then the spectators, of whom there were fully two score, made a +ring, and Griscelli and I (having meanwhile doffed our hats, coats, +and shirts), stepped into the arena.</p> +<p>I had not handled a sword for years, and for aught I knew +Griscelli might be a consummate swordsman and in daily practice. On +the other hand, he was too stout to be in first-rate condition, +and, besides being younger, I had slightly the advantage in length +of arm.</p> +<p>When the word was given to begin, he opened the attack with +great energy and resolution, and was obviously intent on killing me +if he could. For a minute or two it was all I could do to hold my +own; and partly to test his strength and skill, partly to get my +hand in, I stood purposely on the defensive.</p> +<p>At the end of the first bout neither of us had received a +scratch, but Griscelli showed signs of fatigue while I was quite +fresh. Also he was very angry and excited, and when we resumed he +came at me with more than his former impetuosity, as if he meant to +bear me down by the sheer weight and rapidity of his strokes. His +favorite attack was a cut aimed at my head. Six several times he +repeated this manoeuvre, and six times I stopped the stroke with +the usual guard. Baffled and furious, he tried it again, +but—probably because of failing strength—less swiftly +and adroitly. My opportunity had come. Quick as thought I ran under +his guard, and, thrusting his right arm aside with my left hand, +passed my sword through his body.</p> +<p>Then there were cries of bravo, for the popular feeling was on +my side, and my seconds congratulated me warmly on my victory. But +I said little in reply, my attention being attracted by a young man +who was kneeling beside Griscelli’s body and, as it might +seem, saying a silent prayer. When he had done he rose to his feet, +and as I looked on his face I saw he was the dead man’s +son.</p> +<p>“Sir, you have killed my father, and I shall kill +you,” he said, in a calm voice, but with intense passion. +“Yes, I shall kill you, and if I fail my cousins will kill +you. If you escape us all, then we will charge our children to +avenge the death of the man you have this day slain. We are +Corsicans, and we never forgive. I know your name; mine is Giuseppe +Griscelli.”</p> +<p>“You are distraught with grief, and know not what you +say,” I said as kindly as I could, for I pitied the lad. +“But let not your grief make you unjust. Your father died in +fair fight. If I had not killed him he would have killed me, and +years ago he tried to hunt me to death for his +amusement.”</p> +<p>“And I and mine—we will hunt you to death for our +revenge. Or will you fight now? I am ready.”</p> +<p>“No, I have no quarrel with you, and I should be sorry to +hurt you.”</p> +<p>“Go your way, then, but remember—”</p> +<p>“Better leave him; he seems half-crazed,” interposed +Medina. “Come into my house while my slaves remove the +body.”</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XXXV" id="Ch_XXXV">Chapter XXXV.</a></h3> +<h2>A Novel Wager.</h2> +<p class="returnTOC"><a href="#Contents">Return to Table of +Contents</a></p> +<p>Three days afterward Carmen, apprised by his wife of my arrival, +returned to Caracas, and I became their guest, greatly to my +satisfaction, for the duel with Griscelli, besides making me +temporarily famous, had brought me so many friends and invitations +that I knew not how to dispose of them.</p> +<p>In discussing the incident with Salvador, I expressed surprise +that Griscelli should have dared to return to a country where he +had committed so many cruelties and made so many enemies.</p> +<p>“He left Venezuela the year after you disappeared, and +much is forgotten in ten years,” was the answer. “All +the same, I don’t suppose he would have come back if +Olivarez—the last president and a Yellow—had not made +it known that he would bestow commissions on Spanish officers of +distinction and give them commands in the national army. It was a +most absurd proceeding. But we shot Olivarez three months ago, and +I will see that these Spanish interlopers are sent out of the +country forthwith, that young spark who threatens to murder you, +included.”</p> +<p>“Let him stay if he likes. I doubt whether he meant what +he said.”</p> +<p>“I have no doubt of it, whatever, <em>amigo mio</em>, and +he shall go. If he stayed in the country I could not answer for +your safety; and if you come across any of the Griscellis in +Europe, take my advice and be as watchful as if you were crossing a +river infested with <em>caribe</em> fish.”</p> +<p>Carmen was much discouraged by the state of the republic, as +well he might be. By turning out the Spaniards the former colonies +had merely exchanged despotism for anarchy; instead of being beaten +with whips they were beaten with scorpions. But though discouraged +Carmen was not dismayed. He belonged to the Blues, who being in +power, regarded their opponents, the Yellows, as rebels; and he was +confident that the triumph of his party would insure the +tranquillity of the country. As he was careful to explain to me, he +was a Blue because he was a patriot, and he pressed me so warmly to +return with him to La Victoria, accept a command in his army, and +aid in the suppression of the insurrection, that I ended by +consenting.</p> +<p>At Carmen’s instance, the president gave me the command of +a brigade, and would have raised me to the rank of general. But +when I found that there were about three generals for every colonel +I chose the nominally inferior but actually more distinguished +grade.</p> +<p>I remained in Venezuela two years, campaigning nearly all the +time. But it was an ignoble warfare, cruel and ruthless, and had I +not given my word to Carmen, to stand by him until the country was +pacified, I should have resigned my commission much sooner than I +did. Ramon, who acted as one of my orderlies, bore himself bravely +and was several times wounded.</p> +<p>In the meanwhile I received several communications from Van +Voorst, and made two visits to Curaçoa. The cutting and +disposal of my diamonds being naturally rather a long business, it +was nearly two years after I had shipped them to Holland before I +learned the result of my venture.</p> +<p>After all expenses were paid they brought me nearly three +hundred thousand pounds, which account Goldberg, Van Voorst & +Company “held at my disposal.”</p> +<p>It was to arrange and advise with the Amsterdam people, as to +the investment of this great fortune, that I went to Europe. But I +did not depart until my promise was fulfilled. I left Venezuela +pacified—from exhaustion—and Carmen in somewhat better +spirits than I had found him.</p> +<p>His last words were a warning, which I have had frequent +occasion to remember: “Beware of the Griscellis.”</p> +<p>I sailed from Curaçoa (Ramon, of course, accompanying +me), in a Dutch ship, bound for Rotterdam, whither I arrived in due +course, and proceeding thence to Amsterdam, introduced myself to +Goldberg, Van Voorst & Company. They were a weighty and +respectable firm in every sense of the term, and received me with a +ponderous gravity befitting the occasion.</p> +<p>Though extremely courteous in their old-fashioned way, they +neither wasted words nor asked unnecessary questions. But they made +me a momentous proposal—no less than to become their partner. +They had an ample capital for their original trade of diamond +merchants; but having recently become contractors for government +loans, they had opportunities of turning my fortune to much better +account than investing it in ordinary securities. Goldberg & +Company did not make it a condition that I should take an active +part in the business—that would be just as I pleased. After +being fully enlightened as to the nature of their transactions, and +looking at their latest balance-sheets, I closed with the offer, +and I have never had occasion to regret my decision. We opened +branch houses in London and Paris; the firm is now one of the +largest of its kind in Europe; we reckon our capital by millions, +and, as I have lived long, and had no children to provide for, the +amount standing to my credit exceeds that of all the other partners +put together, and yields me a princely income.</p> +<p>But I could not settle down to the monotonous career of a +merchant, and though I have always taken an interest in the +business of the house, and on several important occasions acted as +its special agent in the greater capitals, my life since that +time—a period of nearly fifty years—has been spent +mainly in foreign travel and scientific study. I have revisited +South America and recrossed the Andes, ridden on horseback from +Vera Cruz to San Francisco, and from San Francisco to the +headwaters of the Mississippi and the Missouri. I served in the war +between Belgium and Holland, went through the Mexican campaign of +1846, fought with Sam Houston at the battle of San Jacinto, and was +present, as a spectator, at the fall of Sebastopol and the capture +of Delhi. In the course of my wanderings I have encountered many +moving accidents by flood and field. Once I was captured by Greek +brigands, after a desperate fight, in which both Ramon and myself +were wounded, and had to pay four thousand pounds for my ransom. +For the last twenty years, however, I have avoided serious risks, +done no avoidable fighting, and travelled only in beaten tracks; +and, unless I am killed by one of the Griscelli, I dare say I shall +live twenty years longer.</p> +<p>While studying therapeutics and pathology under Professor +Giessler, of Zurich, shortly after my return to Europe, I took up +the subject of longevity, as to which Giessler had collected much +curious information, and formed certain theories, one being that +people of sound constitution and strong vitality, with no +hereditary predisposition to disease may, by observing a correct +regimen, easily live to be a hundred, preserving until that age +their faculties virtually intact—in other words, only begin +to be old at a hundred. So far I agree with him, but as to what +constituted a “correct regimen” we differed. He held +that the life most conducive to length of years was that of the +scholar—his own, in fact—regular, uneventful, +reflective, and sedentary. I, on the other hand, thought that the +man who passed much of his time in the open air, moving about and +using his limbs, would live the longer—other things being +equal, and assuming that both observed the accepted rules of +health.</p> +<p>The result of our discussion was a friendly wager. “You +try your way; I will try mine,” said Giessler, “and we +will see who lives the longer—at any rate, the survivor will. +The survivor must also publish an account of his system, <em>pour +encourageur les autres</em>.”</p> +<p>As we were of the same age, equally sound in constitution and +strong in physique, and not greatly dissimilar in temperament, I +accepted the challenge. The competition is still going on. Every +New Year’s day we write each other a letter, always in the +same words, which both answers and asks the same questions: +“Still alive?” If either fails to receive his letter at +the specified time, he will presume that the other is <em>hors de +combat</em>, if not dead, and make further inquiry. But I think I +shall win. Three years ago I met Giessler at the meeting of the +British Association, and, though he denied it, he was palpably +aging. His shoulders were bent, his hearing and eye-sight failing, +and the <em>area senilis</em> was very strongly marked, while +I—am what you see.</p> +<p>I have, however, had an advantage over the professor, which it +is only fair to mention. In my wanderings I have always taken +occasion, when opportunity offered, to observe the habits of tribes +who are remarkable for longevity. None are more remarkable in this +respect than the Callavayas of the Andes, and I satisfied myself +that they do really live long, though perhaps not so long as some +of them say. Now, these people are herbalists, and when they reach +middle age make a practice of drinking a decoction which, as they +believe, has the power of prolonging life. I brought with me to +Europe specimens and seeds of the plant (peculiar to the region) +from which the simple is distilled, analyzed the one and cultivated +the other. The conclusion at which I arrived was, that the plant in +question did actually possess the property of retarding that +softening of the arteries which more than anything else causes the +decrepitude of old age. It contains a peculiar alkaloid of which, +for thirty years past, I had taken (in solution) a much-diluted +dose almost daily. You see the result. I also give Ramon an +occasional dose, and he is the most vigorous man of his years I +know. I sent some to Giessler, but he said it was an empirical +remedy, and declined to take it. He preferred electric baths. I +take my electric baths by horseback exercise, and riding to +hounds.</p> +<p>Yes, I believe I shall finish my century—without becoming +senile either in body or mind—if I can escape the Griscelli. +I was in hopes that I had escaped them by coming here; but I never +stay long in Europe that they don’t sooner or later find me +out. I think I shall have to spend the remainder of my life in +America or the East. The consciousness of being continually hunted, +that at any moment I may be confronted with a murderer and +perchance be murdered, is too trying for a man of my age. To tell +the truth, I am beginning to feel that I have nerves; though my +elixir delays death, it does not insure perpetual youth; and +propitiating these people is out of the question—I have tried +it.</p> +<p>Three years after my return from Venezuela, Guiseppe, son of the +man whom I killed at Caracas, tried to kill me at Amsterdam, fired +at me point-blank with a duelling pistol, and so nearly succeeded +that the bullet grazed my cheek and cut a piece out of my ear. Yet +I not only pardoned him, but bribed the police to let him go, and +gave him money. Well, seven years later he repeated the attempt at +Naples, waylaid me at night and attacked me with a dagger, but I +also happened to be armed, and Guiseppi Griscelli died.</p> +<p>At Paris, too—indeed, while the empire lasted—I +found it expedient to shun France altogether. At that time +Corsicans were greatly in favor; several members of the Griscelli +family belonged to the secret police and had great influence, and +as I never took an <em>alias</em> and my name is not common, I was +tracked like a criminal. Once I had to leave Paris by stealth at +dead of night; another time I saved my life by simulating death. +But why recount all the attempts on my life? Another time, perhaps. +The subject is not a pleasant one, but this I will say: I never +spared a Griscelli that I had not cause to regret my clemency. The +last I spared was the young man who tried to murder me down in the +wood there; and if he does not repay my forbearance by repeating +the attempt, he will be false to the traditions of his race.</p> +<p> </p><p> </p><h3><a name="Ch_XXXVI" id="Ch_XXXVI">Chapter XXXVI.</a></h3> +<h2>Epilogue.</h2> +<p>It is scarcely necessary to observe that the deciphering of Mr. +Fortescue’s notes and the writing of his memoirs were not +done in a day. There were gaps to be filled up, obscure passages to +be elucidated, and parts of several chapters and the whole of the +last were written to his dictation, so that the summer came and +went, and another hunting-season was “in view,” before +my work, in its present shape, was completed. I would fain have +made it more complete by giving a fuller account of Mr. +Fortescue’s adventures (some of which must have been very +remarkable) between his first return from South America and his +appearance at Matching Green, and I should doubtless have been able +to do so (for he had promised to continue and amplify his narrative +during the winter, as also to give me the recipe of his elixir), +had not our intercourse been abruptly terminated by one of the +strangest events in my experience and, I should think, in his.</p> +<p>But, before going further, I would just observe that Mr. +Fortescue’s cynicism, which, when I first knew him, had +rather repelled me, was only skin-deep. Though he held human life +rather cheaper than I quite liked, he was a kind and liberal master +and a generous giver. His largesses were often princely and +invariably anonymous, for he detested everything that savored of +ostentation and parade. On the other hand, he had no more tolerance +for mendicants in broadcloth than for beggars in rags, and to those +who asked he gave nothing. As an instance of his dislike of +publicity, I may mention that I had been with him several months +before I discovered that he had published, under a pseudonym, +several scientific works which, had he acknowledged them, would +have made him famous.</p> +<p>After Guiseppe Griscelli’s attempt on his life, I +prevailed on Mr. Fortescue never to go outside the park gates +unaccompanied; when he went to town, or to Amsterdam, Ramon always +went with him, and both were armed. I also gave strict orders to +the lodge-keepers to admit no strangers without authority, and to +give me immediate information as to any suspicious-looking +characters whom they might see loitering about.</p> +<p>These precautions, I thought, would be quite sufficient to +prevent any attack being made on Mr. Fortescue in the daytime. It +was less easy to guard against a surprise during the night, for the +park-palings were not so high as to be unclimbable; and the idea of +a night-watchman was suggested only to be dismissed, for the very +sufficient reason that when he was most wanted he would almost +certainly be asleep. I had no fear of Griscelli breaking in at the +front door; but the house was not burglar-proof, and, as it +happened, the weak point in our defence was one of the windows of +Mr. Fortescue’s bedroom. It looked into the orchard, and, by +climbing a tree which grew hard by, an active man could easily +reach it, even without a ladder. The danger was all the greater, +as, when the weather was mild, Mr. Fortescue always slept with the +window open. I proposed iron bars, to which he objected that iron +bars would make his room look like a prison. And then I had a happy +thought.</p> +<p>“Let us fix a strong brass rod right across the +window-frame,” I said, “in such a way that nobody can +get in without laying hold of it, and by connecting it with a +strong dynamo-battery inside, make sure that the man who does lay +hold of it will not be able to let go.”</p> +<p>The idea pleased Mr. Fortescue, and he told me to carry it out, +which I did promptly and effectively, taking care to make the +battery so powerful that, if Mr. Griscelli should try to effect an +entrance by the window, he would be disagreeably surprised. The +circuit was, of course, broken by dividing the rod in two parts and +interposing a non-conductor between them.</p> +<p>To prevent any of the maids being “shocked,” I told +Ramon (who acted as his master’s body servant) to connect the +battery every night and disconnect it every morning. From time to +time, moreover, I overhauled the apparatus to see that it was in +good working order, and kept up its strength by occasionally +recharging the cells.</p> +<p>Once, when I was doing this, Mr. Fortescue said, laughingly: +“I don’t think it is any use, Bacon; Griscelli +won’t come in that way. If, as some people say, it is the +unexpected that happens, it is the expected that does not +happen.”</p> +<p>But in this instance both happened—the expected and the +unexpected.</p> +<p>As I mentioned at the outset of my story, the habits of the +Kingscote household were of an exemplary regularity. Mr. Fortescue, +who rose early, expected everybody else to follow his example in +this respect, and, as a rule, everybody did so.</p> +<p>One morning, at the beginning of October, when the sun rose +about six o’clock, and we rose with it, I got up, donned my +dressing-gown, and went, as usual, to take my matutinal bath. In +order to reach the bath-room I had to pass Mr. Fortescue’s +chamber-door. As I neared it I heard within loud exclamations of +horror and dismay, in a voice which I recognized as the voice of +Ramon. Thinking that something was wrong, that Mr. Fortescue had +perchance been taken suddenly ill, I pushed open the door and +entered without ceremony.</p> +<p>Mr. Fortescue was sitting up in bed, looking with startled gaze +at the window; and Ramon stood in the middle of the room, aghast +and dismayed.</p> +<p>And well he might, for there hung at the window a man—or +the body of one—his hands convulsively grasping the +magnetized rod, the distorted face pressed against the glass, the +lack-lustre eyes wide open, the jaw drooping. In that ghastly +visage I recognized the features of Giuseppe Griscelli!</p> +<p>“Is he dead, doctor?” asked Mr. Fortescue.</p> +<p>“He has been dead several hours,” I said, as I +examined the corpse.</p> +<p>“So much the better; the brood is one less, and perhaps +after this they will let me live in peace. They must see that so +far as their attempts against it are concerned, I bear a charmed +life. You have done me a great service, Doctor Bacon, and I hold +myself your debtor.”</p> +<p>Ramon and I disconnected the battery and dragged the body into +the room. We found in the pockets a butcher’s knife and a +revolver, and round the waist a rope, with which the would-be +murderer had doubtless intended to descend from the window after +accomplishing his purpose.</p> +<p>This incident, of course, caused a great sensation both at +Kingscote and in the country-side, and, equally of course, there +was an inquest, at which Mr. Fortescue, Ramon, and myself, were the +only witnesses. As Mr. Fortescue did not want it to be known that +he was the victim of a <em>vendetta</em>, and detested the idea of +having himself and his affairs discussed by the press, we were +careful not to gainsay the popular belief that Griscelli was +neither more nor less than a dangerous and resolute burglar, and, +as his possession of lethal weapons proved, a potential murderer. +As for the cause of death I said, as I then fully believed (though +I have since had occasion to modify this opinion somewhat), that +the battery was not strong enough to kill a healthy man, and that +Griscelli had died of nervous shock and fear acting on a weak +heart. In this view the jury concurred and returned a verdict of +accidental death, with the (informal) rider that it “served +him right.” The chairman, a burly farmer, warmly +congratulated me on my ingenuity, and regretted that he had not +“one of them things” at every window in his house.</p> +<p>So far so good; but, unfortunately, a London paper which lived +on sensation, and happened at the moment to be in want of a new +one, took the matter up. One of the editor’s jackals came +down to Kingscote, and there and elsewhere picked up a few facts +concerning Mr. Fortescue’s antecedents and habits, which he +served up to his readers in a highly spiced and amazingly +mendacious article, entitled “old Fortescue and his Strange +Fortunes.” But the sting of the article was in its tail. The +writer threw doubt on the justice of the verdict. It remained to be +proved, he said, that Griscelli was a burglar, and his death +accidental. And even burglars had their rights. The law assumed +them to be innocent until they were proved to be guilty, and it +could be permitted neither to Mr. Fortescue nor to any other man to +take people’s lives, merely because he suspected them of an +intention to come in by the window instead of the door. By what +right, he asked, did Mr. Fortescue place on his window an appliance +as dangerous as forked lightning, and as deadly as dynamite? What +was the difference between magnetized bars in a window and +spring-guns on a game-preserve? In conclusion, the writer demanded +a searching investigation into the circumstances attending Guiseppe +Griscelli’s death, likewise the immediate passing of an act +of Parliament forbidding, under heavy penalties, the use of +magnetic batteries as a defence against supposed burglars.</p> +<p>This effusion (which he read in a marked copy of the paper +obligingly forwarded by the enterprising editor) put Mr. Fortescue +in a terrible passion, which made him, for a moment, look younger +than ever I had seen him look before. The outrage rekindled the +fire of his youth; he seemed to grow taller, his eyes glowed with +anger, and, had the enterprising editor been present, he would have +passed a very bad quarter of an hour.</p> +<p>“The fellow who wrote this is worse than a +murderer!” he exclaimed. “I’ll shoot +him—unless he prefers cold steel, and then I shall serve him +as I served General Griscelli; and ’pon my soul I believe +Griscelli was the least rascally of the two! I would as lief be +hunted by blood-hounds as be stabbed in the back by anonymous +slanderers!”</p> +<p>And then he wanted me to take a challenge to the enterprising +editor, and arrange for a meeting, which rendered it necessary to +remind him that we were not in the England of fifty years ago, and +that duelling was abolished, and that his traducer would not only +refuse to fight, but denounce his challenger to the police and +gibbet him in his paper. I pointed out, on the other hand, that the +article was clearly libellous, and recommended Mr. Fortescue either +to obtain a criminal information against the proprietor of the +paper, or sue him for damages.</p> +<p>“No, sir!” he answered, with a gesture of +indignation and disdain—“no, sir, I shall neither +obtain a criminal information nor sue for damages. The man who goes +to law surrenders his liberty of action and becomes the sport of +chicaning lawyers and hair-splitting judges. I would rather lose a +hundred thousand pounds!”</p> +<p>Mr. Fortescue passed the remainder of the day at his desk, +writing and arranging his papers. The next morning I heard, without +surprise, that he and Ramon were going abroad.</p> +<p>“I don’t know when I shall return,” said Mr. +Fortescue, as we shook hands at the hall door, “but act as +you always do when I am from home, and in the course of a few days +you will hear from me.”</p> +<p>I did hear from him, and what I heard was of a nature so +surprising as nearly to take my breath away.</p> +<p>“You will never see me at Kingscote again,” he +wrote; “I am going to a country where I shall be safe, as +well from the attacks of Corsican assassins as from the cowardly +outrages of rascally newspapers.” And then he gave +instructions as to the disposal of his property at Kingscote. +Certain things, which he enumerated, were to be packed up in cases +and forwarded to Amsterdam. The furniture and effects in and about +the house were to be sold, and the proceeds placed at the disposal +of the county authorities for the benefit of local charities. Every +outdoor servant was to receive six months’ pay, every in-door +servant twelve months’ pay, in lieu of notice. Geirt was to +join Mr. Fortescue in a month’s time at Damascus; and to me, +in lieu of notice, and as evidence of his regard, he gave all his +horses, carriages, saddlery, harness, and stable equipments (not +being freehold) of every description whatsoever, to be dealt with +as I thought fit for my personal advantage. His solicitors, with my +help, would wind up his affairs, and his bankers had instructions +to discharge all his liabilities.</p> +<p>His memoirs, or so much of them as I had written down, I might +(if I thought they would interest anybody) publish, but not before +the fiftieth year of the Victorian era, or the death of the German +emperor, whichever event happened first. The letter concluded thus: +“I strongly advise you to buy a practice and settle down to +steady work. We may meet again. If I live to be a hundred, you +shall hear from me. If I die sooner you will probably hear of my +demise from the house at Amsterdam, to whom please send your new +address.”</p> +<p>I was exceedingly sorry to lose Mr. Fortescue. Our intercourse +had been altogether pleasant and agreeable, and to myself +personally in a double sense profitable; for he had taught me many +things and rewarded me beyond my deserts. Also the breaking up of +Kingscote and the disposal of the household went much against the +grain. Yet I freely confess that Mr. Fortescue’s splendid +gift proved a very effective one, and almost reconciled me to his +absence.</p> +<p>All the horses and carriages, except five of the former, and two +traps, I sent up to Tattersall’s. As the horses, without +exception, were of the right sort, most of them perfect hunters, +and it was known that Mr. Fortescue would not have an unsound or +vicious animal in his stables, they fetched high prices. The sale +brought me over six thousand pounds. Two-thirds of this I put out +at interest on good security; with the remainder I bought a house +and practice in a part of the county as to which I will merely +observe that it is pleasantly situated and within reach of three +packs of hounds. The greater part of the year I work hard at my +profession; but when November comes round I engage a second +assistant and (weather permitting) hunt three and sometimes four +days a week, so long as the season lasts.</p> +<p>And often when hounds are running hard and I am well up, or when +I am “hacking” homeward after a good day’s sport, +I think gratefully of the man to whom I owe so much, and wonder +whether I shall ever see him again.</p> + +<p> </p> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14779 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |