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- float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -/* DIV */ -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } - -</style> -<title>ON FOREIGN SERVICE</title> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="On Foreign Service" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="T. T. Jeans" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1911" /> -<meta name="MARCREL.ill" content="William Rainey" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="45914" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2014-06-07" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="On Foreign Service Or, The Santa Cruz Revolution" /> - -<link href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" rel="schema.DCTERMS" /> -<link href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators" rel="schema.MARCREL" /> -<meta content="On Foreign Service Or, The Santa Cruz Revolution" name="DCTERMS.title" /> -<meta content="foreign.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> -<meta content="en" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" /> -<meta content="2014-06-07T22:35:07.942540+00:00" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" /> -<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> -<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> -<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/45914" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" /> -<meta content="T. T. Jeans" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> -<meta content="William Rainey" name="MARCREL.ill" /> -<meta content="2014-06-07" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" /> -<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> -<meta content="EpubMaker 0.3.20 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="on-foreign-service"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">ON FOREIGN SERVICE</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="align-None container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> -included with this eBook or online at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: On Foreign Service -<br /> Or, The Santa Cruz Revolution -<br /> -<br />Author: T. T. Jeans -<br /> -<br />Release Date: June 07, 2014 [EBook #45914] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>ON FOREIGN SERVICE</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="align-None container coverpage"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 71%" id="figure-118"> -<span id="cover-art"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Cover art" src="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Cover art</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container frontispiece"> -<p class="center pfirst" id="i-hauled-it-up-hand-over-hand"><span class="bold">[Frontispiece: "I HAULED IT UP HAND OVER HAND" -<br />(missing from book)]</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container titlepage"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">On Foreign Service</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">Or, The Santa Cruz Revolution</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">BY</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">STAFF SURGEON T. T. JEANS, R.N.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="small">Author of "Mr. Midshipman Glover, R.N." -<br />"Ford of H.M.S. Vigilant"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">ILLUSTRATED BY WILLIAM RAINEY, R.I.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">BLACKIE AND SON LIMITED -<br />LONDON GLASGOW AND BOMBAY -<br />1911</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">Preface</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>This story is based on experiences, of my own, in -various parts of the world, and describes a Revolution -in a South American Republic, and the part played -by two armoured cruisers whilst protecting British -interests.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It describes life aboard a modern man-of-war, and -attempts to show how the command of the sea -exercises a controlling influence on the issue of land -operations.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the proof sheets have been read by several -officers of the Royal Navy and Royal Marines, and -many suggestions and corrections made, the naval -portion of the story may be taken to give an accurate -description of the incidents narrated.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<dl class="docutils"> -<dt class="noindent"><span>T. T. JEANS,</span></dt> -<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><span>Staff Surgeon, Royal Navy.</span></p> -</dd> -</dl> -<dl class="docutils"> -<dt class="noindent"><span>ROYAL NAVAL HOSPITAL,</span></dt> -<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><span>CHATHAM.</span></p> -</dd> -</dl> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">Contents</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">CHAP.</span></p> -<ol class="upperroman simple"> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#ordered-to-santa-cruz">Ordered to Santa Cruz</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-revolution-imminent">A Revolution imminent</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-revolution-breaks-out">The Revolution breaks out</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-rescue-of-the-sub">The Rescue of the Sub</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#gerald-wilson-captures-san-fernando">Gerald Wilson Captures San Fernando</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-hector-goes-to-san-fernando">The *Hector* goes to San Fernando</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#general-zorilla-falls-back">General Zorilla falls back</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#zorilla-loses-his-guns">Zorilla loses his Guns</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#zorilla-attacks">Zorilla attacks</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-fight-round-the-casino">The Fight round the Casino</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#san-fernando-attacked-from-the-sea">San Fernando attacked from the Sea</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#how-we-fought-the-four-point-sevens">How we fought the Four Point Sevens</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#bad-news-for-gerald-wilson">Bad News for Gerald Wilson</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#la-buena-presidente-fights">*La Buena Presidente* Fights</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-santa-cruz-fleet-again">The Santa Cruz Fleet again</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-attack-on-santa-cruz">The Attack on Santa Cruz</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-ex-policeman">The Ex-policeman</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-hector-goes-home">The *Hector* goes Home</a></p> -</li> -</ol> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">Illustrations</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#i-hauled-it-up-hand-over-hand">"I hauled it up hand over hand"</a><span> . . . </span><em class="italics">Frontispiece</em><span> -(missing from book)</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#his-eyes-simply-spat-fire">"His eyes simply spat fire"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#is-that-gerald-wilson-aboard">"Is that Gerald Wilson aboard?"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#i-gave-the-first-a-blow-on-the-point-of-his-jaw">"I gave the first a blow on the point of his jaw"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#i-dodged-to-the-rear-of-the-first-wagon">"I dodged to the rear of the first wagon"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#mr-bostock-takes-command">Mr. Bostock takes Command</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-effect-of-the-shell">The effect of the Shell</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#scrambling-down-the-mountain-side">Scrambling down the Mountain Side</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="ordered-to-santa-cruz"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER I</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">Ordered to Santa Cruz</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Written by Sub-Lieutenant William Wilson, R.N.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Only eight months ago Ginger Hood and I had -been midshipmen aboard the old </span><em class="italics">Vengeance</em><span>, and of -course had spent most of our time, in her, trying to -get to windward of her sub, pull his leg, and dodge -any job of work which came along. Now the boot -was on the other leg, for we were sub-lieutenants -ourselves—he in the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>, I in the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>, with -gun-rooms of our own to boss, and as we'd only been -at the job for a month, you can guess that we hadn't -quite settled down yet, and felt jolly much like fish -out of water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> were two big armoured -cruisers, as like as two peas, and they had come -straight out from England to Gibraltar to work up -for their first gunnery practices. For the last ten -days they had been lying inside the New Mole -waiting for a strong south-easter to blow itself out, -and we had taken the opportunity of trying to make -our two gun-rooms friendly; for, as a matter of fact, -they hated each other like poison, his mids. taking -every opportunity of being rude to mine, and mine -to his. These rows were always reported to us, and -if we hadn't been such chums, I do believe that we, -too, should have fallen out. If a </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> mid. came -aboard the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> on duty, my chaps would let him -wear his legs out on the quarterdeck for hours sooner -than ask him down below, and you can guess that -they were just as kind aboard the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> if any of -my mids. had to go aboard her. I had sixteen of the -beauties in my gun-room to look after, and Ginger -had fifteen; if his were more bother to him than mine -were to me, I don't wonder he thought that his hair -was turning grey. Never did they meet ashore -without a free fight or some trouble or another -cropping up. The row had started on board the -</span><em class="italics">Cornwall</em><span>, where they had all been together as -cadets, over some wretched boat-race. The winning -crew had used racing oars, which the second boat's -crew either hadn't had the savvy to get, or didn't find -out till too late that they might have used. However -it was, there had been a glorious row at the time, and -as some of my mids. had pulled in the losing boat -and some of Ginger's in the winning one, both -gun-rooms still kept the feud going.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ginger and I thought that the best way to patch -up their quarrel was to make them play matches -against each other, and this we had done—'soccer,' -hockey, and cricket on the dockyard ground, and a -'rugger' game on the North Front.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There wasn't the slightest improvement. I had -jawed my chaps till I was tired, and Ginger had -jawed his, without the least effect; and now they'd -just spoilt what might have been a grand game of -hockey by squabbling all the time, claiming fouls, -and 'sticks,' and nonsense like that, every other -minute.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The game had been so unpleasant that Ginger -and I were thankful when it was finished, slipped -on our coats and watched our two teams quarrelling -and taunting each other as they left the ground in -two separate groups.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Look at the young fools, Billums!' Ginger said -angrily. 'Did you ever see anything so perfectly -idiotic?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Come along up to the Club,' I said savagely. -'We'll have some tea. It makes one feel perfectly -hopeless. I'd like to cane the whole crowd of them.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Up we went together, and found the Captains and -a number of the ward-room fellows from the two -ships lying back in the wicker chairs on the verandah, -basking in the sun and waiting for afternoon tea. As -we came up the steps, they sang out to know which -gun-room had won.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> won, sir,' I told our Skipper, Captain -Grattan. 'Won by four to two.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Tut, tut, boy! What's that now? Still one -game ahead, ain't you?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No, sir, we're all square.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, beat 'em next time, lad.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A jolly chap our Skipper was—short and plump -and untidy, with a merry twinkle spreading over -his funny old face, all wrinkled up with the strain -of keeping his eyeglass in place. Everybody knew -him as 'Old Tin Eye,' and he was so jolly unaffected -that nobody could help liking him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As we leant our hockey sticks up against the -railings and sat down in the corner, we could hear -him chaffing Captain Roger Hill, the tall, thin, -beautifully dressed Skipper of the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>, and could -jolly well see by the way he fidgeted in his chair that -he didn't like it a little bit. Old Tin Eye would call -him 'Spats,' and he didn't like it in public, and -squirmed lest we inferior mortals should hear of it. -I don't suppose he knew that nobody ever did call -him anything but 'Spats.' You see, he never went -ashore without white canvas spats over his boots, and -they were very conspicuous.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Our Fleet Surgeon, Watson—a morose kind of chap—and -Molineux, the Fleet Surgeon of the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>, -stopped talking 'shop' to ask Ginger how many goals -he'd scored (Ginger was the terror of his team); and -Montague, our Gunnery Lieutenant, and Barton, their -gunnery-man, left off talking about the coming -gun-layers' 'test' to ask us if the gun-rooms had made up -their row.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No such luck, sir,' we said. 'They're worse, if -anything.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whilst we were having our tea, one of the Club -'boys' brought along the little Gib. paper, and -of course our Skipper had first turn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Cheer up, Spats, old boy!' he sang out loudly -enough for every one to hear—he loved tormenting -Captain Roger Hill; 'there's trouble in Santa -Cruz again. Old Canilla, the President, has collared -half-a-dozen Englishmen belonging to the Yucan -Rubber Company, and won't give 'em up. If you've -got any shares in it you'd better sell them.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Hello,' I sang out to Ginger. 'I've got a brother -out there. He's supposed to be rubber-planting, but -I'll bet he spends most of his time teaching his natives -to bowl leg breaks at him. Hope they haven't -collared him—I'm sorry for them if they have.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We saw the telegrams ourselves later on, but -there wasn't any more information. Old Gerald, my -brother, didn't belong to the Yucan Company, and -we forgot all about it because there was a much more -exciting telegram above this one. The United -Services had beaten Blackheath by fifteen points to -five—a jolly sight more exciting that was, especially -as I had played for the U.S. this season before we -left England, and knew all the chaps playing on -our side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, that night I had the middle watch, and -whilst the Angel and Cousin Bob (you don't know who -they are yet, but you precious soon will) were making -my cocoa, the light at the Europa Signal Station -began flashing our number. I telephoned to the -fore-bridge to smarten up the signalman, and ask -what the dickens he meant by being asleep; and -then, just for practice, and for something to do, -leant up against the quarterdeck rails and took in -the signal. 'Admiral Superintendent to Captain -Grattan. Coal lighters will come alongside at -daybreak. (Full stop.) Both </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> will -fill up with coal and water as soon as possible, and -will complete with ten days' fresh provisions. (Full -stop.)'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A second or two later the signalman came running -up with his signal-pad, and, not having the faintest -idea what was in the wind, I took it down to the -Skipper. I had to shake him before he would wake; -and when he sat up in his bunk, found his eyeglass, -tucked it into his eye, and read the signal, he -chuckled, 'Tut, tut, boy; we're off somewhere—finish -gunnery. Won't old Montague be sick of -life? Show it to the Commander, and repeat it to -old "Spats"—I mean Captain Roger Hill.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As I was tapping at the Commander's door, -Cousin Bob and the Angel came along, and I knew -they were up to some dodge, for I could see them -grinning in the light of the gangway lantern.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Couldn't you let us off watch, as we've got to -coal early to-morrow? Your cocoa's just inside the -battery door,' they asked me as I went in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Commander was out of bed like a redshank, -read the signal, and gave me his orders for the -morning. 'Can I let Temple and Sparks turn in, -sir, as we're coaling early?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Confound them! I suppose they'd better, the -young rascals. Turn the light off as you go out, and -for heaven's sake make that lumbering ox of a sentry -outside my cabin take his boots off.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I looked round to find the two mids., but they'd -taken the leave for granted and gone below, so I -drank my cocoa and finished my watch by myself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I may as well tell you about the two young -beauties. Bob Temple was, unfortunately for me, -my cousin—a scraggy, freckled, untidy midshipman, -who hadn't the brains to get into mischief, or to get -out of it again, but for his pal the Angel. What had -made them chum together I don't know, for the Angel -(Tommy Sparks) was the exact opposite of Bob—as -spruce and ladylike a chap as you ever saw, always -beautifully neat and clean, with a face like a girl's, -light hair, and blue eyes. He looked as though -butter couldn't possibly melt in his mouth, and -devoted every moment when he wasn't asleep or -eating to getting himself and my </span><em class="italics">dear</em><span> young cousin -into a scrape. It was one of his latest efforts which -had cost them watch and watch for three days, and -that was why they were keeping the 'middle' with -me that night; so you can guess why they were so -keen on the coaling signal, and had streaked down -below. It didn't matter to me a tinker's curse how -many watches the Angel kept, but with Cousin Bob -it mattered a good deal. His people looked on me -as his bear-leader, and every time he got into a row -sooner or later I heard about it from them, or from his -sister Daisy. I'm hanged if you are going to hear -any more about her, except that she used to think me -a brute whenever his leave was stopped, or he had -'watch and watch,' and put it all down to me. I -hadn't had to cane him yet, but I knew that would have -to happen sooner or later, and I guessed that when it -did happen, she'd write me a pretty good 'snorter.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Don't think that Bob would peach—not he, -intentionally—but I knew exactly what he'd write -home—something like this:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'The Angel sends his love—he and I cheeked the -Padre at school yesterday—we had awful fun—old -Billums (that was I) caned the two of us after evening -quarters. This morning we both pretended we couldn't -sit down, and groaned when we tried to, till the Padre -went for old Billums for laying it on so hard. We've -got our leave stopped for trying to catch rats on the -booms with a new trap which the Angel has invented. -The Commander caught his foot in it. You should -have heard him curse.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>That was the kind of thing that used to go home, -and his father and mother, and my mother too, to say -nothing of Daisy, put it all down to me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had to turn the hands 'out' at seven bells, to rig -coaling screens, the whips, and all the other gear for -coaling, turned over my watch to the fat marine -subaltern who relieved me, and got a couple of hours' -sleep before the coal lighters bumped alongside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a case of being as nippy as fleas after that, -because we </span><em class="italics">had</em><span> to beat the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>. You should -have seen the Angel and Cousin Bob in blue overalls, -with white cap covers pulled down over their heads, -digging out for daylight down in my coal lighter -among the foretopmen, all of them as black as niggers, -shovelling coal into baskets, passing them up the -side, dodging the lumps of coal which fell out of them -and the empty baskets thrown back from the ship. -There wasn't much of the Angel left about either of -them then.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the end of the first hour we'd got in 215 tons, -and as the little numeral pendants 2-0-7 ran up to the -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> foreyard-arm to show how many tons she -had taken in, our chaps cheered. We'd beaten her -by eight tons.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I bet she cheated even then,' I heard Bob tell his chum.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We were still a ton or two to the good after the -second hour, and then the 'still' was sounded in both -ships, and every one went to breakfast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You should have been there to have seen us in -our coaling rigs—simply a mass of coal dust and -looking like a lot of Christy Minstrels—squatting on -the deck outside the gun-room, and stuffing down -sardines with our dirty hands, every one talking and -shouting and as merry as pigs in a sty. Even young -Marchant, the new clerk, had got into a coaling rig of -sorts and worked like a horse—he was so keen to beat -the hated </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I gave them all a quarter of an hour to stuff -themselves, and then down we clambered into the lighters -again and began filling baskets—nobody, not even -the Angel, shirking a job like this, when there was the -chance of getting even with the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The men came struggling down after us, long -before the breakfast half-hour was finished, and we -could see the </span><em class="italics">Hercules'</em><span> people swarming down into her -lighters as well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In all the lighters we must have had sixty tons -or more in baskets before the bugler sounded the -commence, the ship's band upon the booms banged -out 'I'm afraid to go home in the dark,' the drum -doing most of it; the men began cheering and singing -the chorus, and the baskets began streaming on board -again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the end of the fourth hour we were as hard -at it as ever, but then Commander Robinson—we -didn't care for him much, as he was such a bully—began -bellowing at us, because the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> was -fifteen tons ahead. We could hear her chaps cheering. -The band banged out again 'Yip-i-addy,' and the -Skipper, with his eyeglass tucked in his eye and his -long hair straggling over his neck, walked round the -upper deck singing down to the lighters, 'Go it, lads, -we must beat 'em.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Down in my lighter the men were working like -demons. They looked like demons too, got up in all -sorts of queer rigs, and only stopping to take a drink -from the mess tins of oatmeal water which the 'Scorp'[#] -lighterman ladled out for them.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Natives of Gibraltar are often called 'Scorps' -(Rock Scorpions).</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'Look out how you're trimming your lighter, -Wilson,' the Commander had bellowed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Aye, aye, sir,' I shouted back, but never thought -what he really meant—thought he meant we weren't -working hard enough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We can't do no more 'ardly,' Pat O'Leary, the -captain of the foretop, panted. 'The foretop men be -pulling their pound—anyway, sir,' and he seized -basket after basket and hove them on the platform -rigged half-way up the ship's side, doing the work of -three men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Keep it up, foretop,' I shouted, shovelling for all -I was worth, Bob and the Angel keeping me busy -with empty baskets. Then there was a warning shout -from up above, a lot of chaps cried, 'Look out, sir!' -and, before I knew what had happened, I was in the -water, all my chaps were in the water, the lighter had -turned turtle, and twenty or more tons of good coal was -sinking to the bottom of the harbour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The first thing I thought was, 'We can't beat them -now,' knew it was my fault, and felt a fool. The -Commander was bellowing for me to come aboard, and -Bob and the Angel, with their faces rather cleaner and -bursting with laughter, were bobbing alongside me. -Then O'Leary spluttered out that the 'Scorp' lighterman -was missing, and we both up with our feet and -dived down to find him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The water was so thick with coal dust that we -couldn't see a foot away from us, but O'Leary touched -him as he was coming up for breath and brought him -to the surface, pretty well full of water and frightened -out of his wits, though otherwise none the worse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I did feel a fool if you like. What had happened -was that we had dug away all the coal on one side, and -I had never noticed—I was so excited—that the lighter -was gradually heeling over, till over she went—upside -down. The band had stopped, the whole of the -coaling had stopped, the men looking over the side -to see if any of us had been drowned, till the -Commander, hoarse with shouting, shrieked for them -to carry on again, whilst we clambered up the ship's -side like drowned rats, O'Leary helping the lighterman. -Well, there wasn't the faintest chance of our -beating the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> now. Every one knew it, -everyone slacked off, and there was no more cheering and -shouting of choruses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was my stupidity that had spoilt everything.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The only thing that I could give as an excuse was -that I'd never been in charge of a coal lighter before, -but I jolly well knew that the Commander would say, -'And I'll take care you never have charge again,' so I -kept quiet whilst he stormed at me, shouting that he'd -make me pay for the twenty tons. When he was out -of breath, he took me, dripping with coal water, to -the Captain, who was very angry and very -disappointed about the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> part of it, but he hated -the Commander bellowing at people, so wasn't as -severe as he might have been. He sent me away to -right the lighter, and it took us—me and the foretop -men—a couple of hours to do it, fixing ropes round her -under water. We shouldn't have done it even then -hadn't Stevens—one of the Engineer Lieutenants and -a chum of mine—switched on the current to the electric -fore capstan, and we hauled her round with this.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another loaded lighter had been brought off from -the shore to make up for the coal I'd tipped into the -harbour, and then we were sent to empty her, whilst -the rest of the ship's company sat with their feet -dangling over the side, jeering at us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the time we had finished we were all in a pretty -bad temper, all except O'Leary, who kept up his -'pecker' till the last basket had been filled and hauled -up the side. 'I ought to have told you—anyway, sir; -I've coaled from lighters time enough to have known -better,' he said, trying to buck me up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I reported myself to the Commander, had another -burst of angry bellowing from him, and then every -one had to clean ship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bob and the Angel were shivering close to me, so -I sent them down below to get out of their wet things, -but they were up again in a couple of seconds, and -could hardly speak for excitement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We're off to Santa Cruz. They've collared a -steamer as well as those Englishmen, and we're off to -give 'em beans. Isn't that ripping?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It jolly well was, but the youngsters had had just -about enough of working in their wet clothes, and were -shaking with cold, so I sent them down again and -went on with my job—it didn't make any difference -whether hoses were turned on me or not, I was so -wet. Presently, old Bill Perkins, our First Lieutenant, -came limping along, his jolly old red face beaming all -over. 'Never mind, Wilson, we'll beat 'em another -time; lucky none of you were hurt or drowned.' He -saw that I too was about blue with cold, and took my -job whilst I changed into dry things.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old Ginger came over after dinner from the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>. -'They're having a sing-song in the gun-room, but I -thought I'd give you a look up,' he told me—'awfully -sorry about the lighter business.' Of course he'd come -across to cheer me, and he did too, both of us talking -twenty to the dozen about Santa Cruz and the chances -of our having a 'scrap.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My chaps presently started a bit of a jamberee, old -Ginger singing a couple of songs and joining in the -choruses. We were just beginning to forget all about -the coaling, when a signalman came down and handed -Barton, the senior mid., a signal. 'Senior Midshipman, -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>, to Ditto, </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>.—Hope none of you -are any the worse for your nice little swim.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The mids. were too angry to speak for a minute, and -then the storm burst, and they called the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> -gun-room all the names they could lay hold of, old Ginger -looking very uncomfortable, and very angry too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Never mind, Billums,' he said. 'We've done our -best to make 'em friends, and they won't be,' and then -sang out, 'Gentlemen, I apologise for that signal—don't -answer it—its beastly rude, and I'll cane the -senior midshipman to-morrow morning.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no more sing-song after that, old Ginger -went back to his ship as angry as we were, and I -turned in, knowing jolly well that my chaps would -hate Ginger's all the more, and that Ginger beating -the senior mid. would only make things worse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Let's hope we get mixed up in a 'scrap' or two -out in Santa Cruz,' Ginger had said as he went away, -and I knew that that was about the only thing that -would do the trick and make them friends.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was a bad day's work for me. I'd shown -myself a fool, the Commander wouldn't forget my -carelessness for months, and the Skipper would feel -he couldn't trust me. That made me want to kick -myself.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-revolution-imminent"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER II</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">A Revolution Imminent</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Written by Sub-Lieutenant William Wilson, R.N.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Early next morning, just as the sun was lighting up -the signal station at the top of the Rock, we and the -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> slipped from our buoys and shoved off into -the Atlantic, the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> two cables astern of us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We rounded Tarifa Lighthouse; the jolly old -Rock, sticking up like an old tooth, was hidden by -the Spanish mountains; we saw the white walls of -Tangier under the snow-capped Atlas mountains, on -the African side, and then we began to tumble about -merrily in the open Atlantic. The </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> wasn't -still for a minute at a time, and my mids. had -something else to think about than the latest </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> -gun-room insult. Most of them felt pretty 'chippy,' -</span><em class="italics">though of course</em><span> it had nothing to do with us rolling -and pitching. Rather not! None of them were -seasick, perfectly absurd! They were only a little out -of sorts; didn't want any breakfast, or got rid of -what they did eat pretty rapidly; much preferred -lying down in a corner inside the battery screen, out -of the wind, and took a deal of 'rousting' out of it -before they'd do their job. For all that, they'd have -been awfully angry if any one had suggested that -they were seasick. The gun-room messman had -given us the strongest of kippers for breakfast that -morning—this was his idea of a joke—and as we -couldn't keep a single scuttle open, and there was -practically no ventilation in the gun-room, you can -imagine that you could almost cut the atmosphere -with a knife.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 73%" id="figure-119"> -<span id="the-hector-and-the-hercules"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="The Hector and the Hercules" src="images/img-027.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">The Hector and the Hercules</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pearson, the A.P., the engineer sub, Raynor, and -I were alone in our glory when we began tackling -the messman's kippers; but soon the mids. came -along, and it was worth a fortune to watch them put -their heads inside the gun-room, take a 'sniff,' and -go away again. Presently Bob and the Angel came -dashing down, and we three chuckled as they rushed -in, got a breath of it, stopped dead in their tracks, -pretended they didn't mind, and sat down as near the -door as they could get. We watched them 'peck' a -bit, Bob's freckles showed up more than ever, the -Angel looked perfectly green, and they were both as -silent as mummies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ship gave a big roll to starboard, a green sea -slapped over the glass scuttles and darkened the -whole gun-room; there was a crash of crockery -smashing in the pantry; Bob and the Angel grabbed -their plates, back the old </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> tumbled to port; -Bob's coffee-cup slid gracefully into his lap—he could -stick to it no longer—and rushed away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Angel lasted another lurch, but that finished him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Afraid I—caught—cold—in the water—yesterday—afraid -Bob did too—I'm not—very hungry—I'll see -what's the matter with Bob,' he gulped, swallowing -every word; and, clapping his hand over his mouth, -he disappeared after his chum.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>More than half the mids. never ventured further -than the gun-room flat, where they caught the first -whiff of kipper, and those who did, didn't stay long.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We'd get a fine mess surplus if they'd only keep -like it,' the A.P. grinned; 'but, confound them, -they won't.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They'd enjoy an hour down in the engine-room -now. Wouldn't they?' Raynor chuckled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course they were as right as a trivet in a couple -of days, and you may bet that they made up for those -lost meals.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every one on board expected that there might be a -bit of a scrap when we got across to Santa Cruz, and -you can guess how we got hold of Brassey's </span><em class="italics">Naval -Annual</em><span> and Jane's </span><em class="italics">Fighting Ships</em><span> to see if Santa -Cruz had any ships good enough to give us a show.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They hadn't; that was the worst of it. Three or -four miserable out-of-date cruisers, half-a-dozen -gunboats, and a couple of torpedo boats built in the year -one. There certainly was a cruiser building for them -at Newcastle, a ship named </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span>, a -big monster like our latest cruisers, and even bigger -and more powerful than the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> herself; but -Raynor had seen her in the Tyne since she was -launched, knew all about her, and was certain that -she couldn't be ready inside six months.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What a pity they didn't wait till they'd got her!' -Bob said, with his mouth open. And that was about -what we all thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Still, though there wasn't likely to be any sport -with their wretched Navy, we might have to bombard -a fort or two, which would be good enough business; -and, more exciting even than that, we might have to -send a landing-party ashore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We didn't waste much time all these eight days -we were at sea, the Commander, Bill Perkins, and -Montague, the Gunnery Lieutenant, slapping round, -from morning to night for all they were worth. The -marines, three companies of seamen, two field-guns' -and two maxim-guns' crews, and a stretcher party of -stokers were told off to land. Their leather gear, -haversacks, water-bottles, and rolled-up blankets -were all got ready, hung over their rifles in the -racks, and, morning and evening, we made an -evolution of 'falling in' on the quarterdeck and -fo'c'stle, and getting on our gear in double quick time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ten of my sixteen mids. were told off to land, and -were as happy as fleas in a blanket, fitting their -leather gear and sharpening their dirks all day long, -and thinking about what they'd do when they got -ashore half the night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marchant, the young clerk—he'd only just joined -the Navy, and this was his first ship—was told off to -land as 'Old Tin Eye's' secretary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was being pretty well bullied and knocked -into shape by the mids., and made to feel what a -hopeless worm he was; but now there were six of -them who'd have given their heads to change places -with him, and he absolutely swelled with pride and -importance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Three days after leaving Gib. the weather became -gloriously warm, the sea simply like a sheet of -glittering glass, the sun glaring on it all day long. -It was grand to be alive, and we all—officers and -men alike—went into training, and were doubled -round and round, morning and evening, till the -sweat rolled off us. Every evening, too, the parallel -bars and the horizontal bar were rigged on the -quarterdeck, and the ward-room fellows and we -gun-room people did gymnastics for an hour or so, -finishing up with a follow-my-leader round the battery -till we nearly dropped. On board the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> they -were doing gymnastics and the new Swedish drill, on -the fo'c'stle, the whole day long. But the sight of all -was the fat blue marine subaltern—the Forlorn Hope, -we called him—doubling up and down the quarterdeck, -on his own, to work off his fat, so that he could -march properly when he landed—his cheeks flopping -from side to side, and running with perspiration. -I'm sure you would have died of laughing, especially -when his opposite number—the Shadow—the awfully -thin red marine subaltern, doubled round after him, -trying to work up an appetite, and put on more -weight. It was the terribly earnest faces they shipped -that made one laugh. When you come to think of it, -the whole thing was really jolly odd. Here were these -two great grey ships, with their long grim 9.2's and -7.5's, and their twelve hundred odd men, pounding -steadily along for eight days and nights, to a country -hardly any one of us had heard of before, and every -one on board both of them was digging out to make -himself and them as fit as 'paint,' in case there was a -job for us when we did get there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Commander even stopped bellowing at people, -and brimmed over with good temper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We had two great heroes on board—at any rate -the mids. thought they were—one of the -lieutenants—Bigge—who had been with Sir Edward Seymour -in the Relief of Pekin force, and Mr. Bostock, the -Gunner, who had been through the siege of -Ladysmith during the Boer War.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some one told the story how five Chinamen had -attacked Bigge whilst he was trying to blow in a gate -or something like that, and how he settled the whole -lot of them with his revolver. Whether it was true or -not—and I believe it was—the mids. simply hung -round him now, and tried to get him to tell them -some of his experiences. They looked at the little bit -of yellow and red ribbon on his monkey-jacket, and -simply longed for a chance to earn something like it, -and have a bit of ribbon to stick on their chests. -Although they never could get </span><em class="italics">him</em><span> to talk about -his show, Mr. Bostock would talk about the siege of -Ladysmith, and how the naval brigade helped the -sappers, that awful morning on the crest of Wagon -Hill—would talk as long as they'd like to listen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He'd sit smoking ship's tobacco in his cabin—it -hadn't any scuttle or ventilation whatever of any -account, so you can have an idea what the smell was -like—and the mids. would crowd in, those who -couldn't do so squeezing into the doorway, and -listen by the hour. Nothing else but war was talked -about from morning to night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, on the ninth day out from Gibraltar, we -sighted Prince Rupert's Island, ran in through the -northern channel, and anchored two miles off Princes -Town in a great wide bay, with the dark mountains -of Santa Cruz just showing up on the horizon away -to the west. Somewhere up among them old Gerald -was teaching his natives to play cricket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Skipper went ashore immediately in the picketboat, -to call on the Governor and get news and fresh -orders; so you can guess how excited we all were -when she was seen coming tearing off again, and the -Skipper ran up the accommodation ladder. I believe -every officer in the ship was up on the quarterdeck -to hear the news, and you can just imagine what we -felt like when we saw that the Skipper had shipped a -long face, and when he shook his head at us and went -down below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In three minutes we knew the worst—it was all -over the ship. The Englishmen and the English -steamer had been released; old Canilla, the President, -had apologised handsomely, and all was peace. -Wasn't it sickening?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ain't it a bally shame,' Montague, the Gunnery -Lieutenant, said, 'stoppin' our gun-layers' test at Gib., -just as we were in the thick of it; bringin' us -lolloppin' along here, and nothin' for us to do when we -get here—no landin' party, no nothin'.' And he -sent word down to Mr. Bostock to re-stow and pack -up all the leather gear and water-bottles.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It do take the 'eart out of one,' Mr. Bostock told -the sympathising mids., 'not a blooming chawnce to -let off so much as a single ball cartridge,' and he -went below to see that none of his landing party gear -was missing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Governor himself came off to return the -Skipper's call, and brought off some of the shore -chaps with a challenge to play us at football, hockey, -tennis, cricket, polo, or anything and everything we -jolly well liked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That bucked us all up a bit, and Clegg, our -Surgeon—a great, tall chap and a grand cricketer—who -ran the sports on board, sent for me to fix up -things. Between us we fixed enough matches to last -the first ten days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Can't play you at polo,' we told them, 'we've -only got one chap who's ever played in his life.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, I'll tell you what we'll do,' one of them -said, 'we'll lend you ponies to practise for the match, -and if you'll lend us one of your boats, we'll practise -in her, and pull a race against you in ten days' time. -What d'you say to that? That'll even up matters -a bit.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Let's get this little lot finished first,' we said, -laughing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were a sporting crowd. This was a Tuesday. -On Wednesday we were to play Princes' Town at -rugby—it made me sweat only to think of it, although -this was what they called their winter—whilst the -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> was to play the Country Club. On -Thursday we were to change rounds, and on Friday -the two ships were to play the whole of Prince -Rupert's Island.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On Saturday they thought we might have a cricket -match—if it wasn't too </span><em class="italics">cold</em><span>! 'Right you are,' we -said, 'if there's anything left of us—though we shall -probably be melted by that time.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were dances every night, and picnics and -tennis parties for those who weren't playing anything -else.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We're going to have a fizzing time, Wilson, after -all,' Dr. Clegg said, as we watched them go ashore, -after having had no end of a job to get their boat -alongside, because there was such a crowd of native -boats swarming round the foot of the ladder, loaded -down to the gunwales with bananas, oranges, melons, -and things like that, the buck niggers on board -them quarrelling, and squealing, and laughing, -dodging the lumps of coal the side boys threw to make -them keep their boats away from the gangway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Most of the boats had their stern-sheets weighted -down with black ladies, dressed in white calico skirts -and coloured blouses, trying to look dignified and -squealing all the time, holding up bits of paper -whenever they caught sight of an officer, and singing out, -'Mister Officah, I vash your clo's—I hab de letter -from naval officah—I good vasher-lady, you tell -quatamasta, let me aboard—all de rest only black trash.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were allowed on board presently, and down -into the gun-room flat they swarmed—old ones, young -ones, fat ones, and thin ones, all trying to get our -washing to take ashore. 'Me Betsy Jones, me vash -for Prince George, sah! I know Prince George when -he so high, sah! Betsy good vasher-lady, you give -me your vashing.' They were all round the -'Angel.' 'Ah! bless your pretty heart, my deah, you give -your vashing to Matilda Ann; I vash for Prince -George and for Admiral Keppel—verrah nice man -Admiral Keppel.' He was pulled from one to the -other, and when he escaped into the gun-room they -followed him. He was jolly glad to hear the -picketboat called away and escape.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was all very well to arrange matches; but a -wretched collier came creeping into the bay that very -afternoon with three thousand tons of Welsh coal for -the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> and ourselves, and, instead of playing -football, we jolly well had to empty her between us. -There was no going ashore for any one except the -paymasters, and for two whole days we were busy. -The heat of it and the dirt of it were positively beastly. -It took us twenty-two solid hours to get in 1400 tons, -because the men couldn't work well in that heat. It -was bad enough on deck, but down in the collier and -down below in our own bunkers the heat was simply -terrific.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We felt like bits of chewed string when we did go -ashore on the third day to play the combined match, -and chewed string wasn't in it after we'd been playing -ten minutes. I don't think that we could have -possibly held our own, but that game never ended. -We were waiting for the 'Angel' to get back his -breath after being 'winded,' and were wiping the -sweat out of our eyes, when a marine orderly came -running on to the ground with orders from the -Skipper for us to return on board at once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We stuck the 'Angel' on his feet, told the other -chaps what had happened, bolted for our coats, and -were off through the town to the Governor's steps as -fast as we could go, the marine orderly puffing behind -us and the nigger boys, thinking we were running -away from the Prince Rupert's team, shouting rude -things after us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Boats were waiting there, the ward-room and -gun-room messmen came along, followed by strings of -niggers carrying fruit and live fowls and -turkeys—everything was bundled down into the -stern-sheets—there was no time for ceremony—and we were only -waiting for Perkins, the First Lieutenant, who was -lame and couldn't run. He'd being doing touch judge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cousin Bob was the midshipman of the boat—the -second barge. 'What's up?' I asked him. 'Somebody's -died—over in Santa Cruz—and we're ordered -off to Los Angelos at once. We're to attend the -funeral or something like that.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Funeral!' we groaned; 'fancy spoiling a football -match for a funeral,' and the 'Angel,' who'd recovered -by now, squeaked out that he'd already engaged most -of his partners for the dances—'ripping fine girls, -too, you chaps.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perkins came hobbling along, his red face redder -than ever, hustled his way through the laughing, -jostling crowd of niggers at the top of the steps, and -jumped down among us, mopping his face. 'All in -the day's work, lads; shove off, I'm in the boat.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Hi, Bill!' some of the ward-room people sang out, -'some one wants you,' and they pointed to where an -enormously stout black lady was elbowing her way -to the front.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Hi, Massa Perkins! Hi, Massa Perkins! How -d'ye do, Massa Perkins—me Arabella de Montmorency—you -sabby Arabella—Arabella see your deah red -face—vash for you in de flagship—de </span><em class="italics">Cleopatra</em><span>—you -owe Arabella three shillin' and tuppence—you pay -Arabella—vat for you no pay Arabella—Arabella vash -for you when you midshipman in de </span><em class="italics">Cleopatra</em><span>.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'All right, old girl,' Perkins sang out, waving his -stick cheerily at her, 'I sabby you, you come aboard, -by an' by, when we come back—give you some -ship's baccy—come aboard the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Shove off,' he told Bob, and off we pulled, the -crew grinning from ear to ear, and the niggers all -cackling with laughter, dancing about and singing -out, 'Three cheers for the red, white, and blue,' 'Old -England for ebber,' and Mrs. Arabella's voice following -us, 'I mak' de prayer to de good Lo'd for Massa -Perkins—Him keepa Massa Perkins from harm—Arabella -want de three shillin' and tuppence.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You've got some nice friends, Bill,' the ward-room -officers chaffed him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The cable was already clanking in through the -hawse-pipe as we got aboard, and in half an hour the -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> was following us out through the eastern -passage, and we headed across for the mainland and -Santa Cruz.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was my morning watch next morning (from four -to eight), and it was a grand sight to see the sun rise -behind us, flooding the calm sea with red and orange -colours, whilst the little wisps of clouds which hung -about the sides of the fierce-looking mountains of -Santa Cruz, in front of us, kept on changing from -gold to pink and from pink to orange.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>O'Leary was the quarter-master of the watch, and I -saw the old chap looking at them. He shook his head -at me, 'Better than an "oleo"—that—sir. That's -God's own picture.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Even the stokers who'd just come off watch and -were cooling themselves, down on the fo'c'stle below -us, stood watching the grand sight, and then, down at -the foot of the mountains, a long white line showed up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That's the breakwater at Los Angelos,' fat little -Carlton, our navigator, told me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As we forged along through the oily, glistening sea, -and got closer, we could see the masts and funnels and -fighting-tops of the little Navy of Santa Cruz -sheltering behind it, all tinged with the sunrise; and the -hundreds of windows in the lighthouse and the houses -clustered at the foot of the mountains were all glowing -as if they were on fire. If old Gerald had heard we -were coming, it was quite likely that he'd come down -from the estate and might be snoring on his back -behind one of them, snoring like a good 'un and -dreaming about the last football match he'd played in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then high up the side of the dark mountains a -ball of white smoke shot out, hung there in the still -air for a second or two, and melted away, changing -colour as it disappeared.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That's the sunrise gun, sir, from one of their -forts, sir. Them Dagos be half an hour adrift, I'm -blowed if they ain't,' O'Leary said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The bridge was crowding up now, for the Skipper -and the Commander and a host of mids. had come -along to bring the ships to anchor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Pretty sight that,' the Skipper grunted, squinting -through his eyeglass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Like pink icing on a wedding cake, sir,' the -Commander added, thinking he'd said something funny.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Yes, sir; beautiful, sir,' chipped in the navigator, -really wondering what the Skipper was referring to, -but very eager to agree with him—he would have -licked his boots if he thought the Skipper would -like it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Bring ship to an anchor,' snapped out the Skipper, -and the boat's'n's mates piped, 'Watch, bring ship to -an anchor—duty-men to their stations—away second -barges.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The anchoring pendants were run up to our -masthead—the answering pendant on board the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> -got to her masthead almost as soon—and we moved -slower and slower in towards the breakwater.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The navigator reported, 'On our bearings, sir;' the -Skipper nodded to the Commander, who bellowed -down to the fo'c'stle, 'Let go;' the signalman hauled -down the pendants; the starboard anchor splashed -into the sea, and the cable began rattling out through -the hawse-pipes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Down went the pendant aboard the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>, and -her anchor splashed behind us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Full speed astern both,' snapped the Skipper to -the man at the engine-room telegraph and the water -churned up under our stern.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Going astern, sir,' sang out the leadsman, with an -eye on the water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Stop engines,' the Skipper snapped again, and the -old </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> was once more at anchor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At eight o'clock we saluted the Santa Cruz flag; -the fort, up in the clouds, which had fired the sunrise -gun, returned it after a while, and the swarthy little -port doctor came out from behind the breakwater, in -a fussy little steam-launch, to see if we had any -infectious diseases on board, and as we hadn't, to give -us 'pratigue'—take us out of quarantine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After a lot of silly rot, he bowed and scraped -himself on board, said 'bueno, bueno,' about a hundred -times, bowed and scraped himself down the ladder into -his boat, and went fussing back behind the breakwater -again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He'd brought some letters from our Minister at -Santa Cruz, and it turned out that it was the President's -wife who had died. She was to be buried next day, -so we were a trifle early.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We might have finished that "footer" match -after all,' I heard the Angel grumble to Cousin Bob.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I rather hoped that Gerald would have written, but -he hadn't—he was a terrible hand at writing letters.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Skipper—Old Tin Eye—went ashore to call on -the Military Governor, who returned his call almost -before he could get back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was a long, lean, hollow-cheeked Spanish kind -of a chap, in a white uniform and marvellous hat with -green and yellow plumes, his chest covered with -medals and orders—a grand-looking old fighting-cock. -He brought with him his two A.D.C.'s—one of them -as black as your hat, and the other fat and short, with -an enormous curved sabre ten sizes too big for him -and gilt spurs so long that he could hardly get down -the ladders, even by walking sideways. He looked -just like a pantomime soldier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He brought his black pal down to the gun-room to -leave the Governor's cards, and, as he could speak a -little English, we got on all right.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I noticed him looking at me rather curiously, -and at last he said, 'You know Señor Geraldio -Wilson?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Old Gerald! he's my brother. Why?' I asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You have the same,' and he pointed to his face -and hair. Old Gerald has the same yellowish hair -and grey eyes that I have.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Funny that he'd spotted me, wasn't it, for we never -thought each other much alike?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You know Gerald?' I asked him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'All peoples know Señor Geraldio,' he replied, very -courteously, but with an expression on his face as if -he wasn't going to say any more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We took them on deck, and whilst their boat was -being brought alongside, and they were waiting for -the Governor to come up from the Captain's cabin, -they were awfully keen on the after 9.2 gun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Make shoot many kilometres?' the fat chap asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'About thirty,' I told him, doing a rough calculation -in my head, and he told his black pal, and they jerked -their thumbs towards the mountains. It didn't take -much brains to guess that they were wondering -whether we could shell the city of Santa Cruz itself. -They looked at that gun jolly respectfully after that.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Later on that day, we learnt a lot about local politics -from two English merchants, who came off to call and -feel English 'ground'—as they expressed it—under -their feet again. They looked jolly cool in their white -clothes and pith sun-helmets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's a mighty change from a week ago,' they said. -'All the Europeans and Americans here at Los Angelos -and up in Santa Cruz were practically prisoners, some -had actually been thrown into San Sebastian—the old -fort of Santa Cruz—and we were all expecting notice to -quit the country, when they heard that you were coming -along, apologised to the chaps in San Sebastian, and -let the rest of us along. We're glad to see you, you -bet we are, for there's trouble coming.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What? Where?' we asked, frightfully keen to -know, all the mids. crowding round and keeping as -silent as mice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Revolution! that's what's coming. It's as certain -as we're sitting here. Old Canilla, the President, is -hated everywhere, except in his own province of Santa -Cruz and the city itself. The country will revolt -directly the Vice-President—de Costa—gives the word. -It's been coming for years, but Mrs. President, the old -lady who's to be buried to-morrow, was the -Vice-President's sister, and, though they hate each other -like poison, she kept the peace between her husband -and her brother. 'Every one called her </span><em class="italics">La Buena -Presidente</em><span>, and now she's gone'—they shrugged their -shoulders—'we don't know what will happen. The -very day </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span>, poor old lady, died, -General Angostina was shot in the back—he was the -most popular general in the country and backed the -de Costas—and no attempt has been made to arrest his -assassins, who boast about it at the Military Club. In -fact, the paper this morning says that one has been -promoted for "services to his country."'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'</span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span>?' the A.P. sang out; 'that's -the name of the new cruiser building for them at -Newcastle.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Named after her,' one of them said. 'She's big -enough to sink the whole of the rest of their fleet, and -that's where the trouble comes in. The fleet is loyal -to the President just now, but he's in a terrible funk -lest the crew he is sending to England to bring her -here alter their minds. If they do, they can make -cat's-meat of the rest, and then old Canilla's up a tree, -for he can't scotch a revolution in the provinces to -north and south of him, unless he holds command of -the sea and prevents them joining forces.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'When's this revolution to start?' we asked -rather chaffingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'To-morrow at 1.25 sharp. That's the official -time for the funeral service to end, and till then -Canilla and de Costa will be friends. To-morrow -night there won't be a single friend of the -Vice-President in Santa Cruz, unless he's shot or in San -Sebastian. De Costa himself won't be in Santa Cruz -either, unless he's shot or arrested as he leaves the -cathedral. He'll be off to his own province of Leon. -Now you can guess why we're glad to see you.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'm jolly glad we didn't stay to finish that footer -match,' the Angel sang out, as they took their leave. -'We're going to have some jolly fun, ain't we, Bob?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'D'you know a chap called Gerald Wilson, a -brother of mine?' I asked one of them, a very fat -chap, whose name was Macdonald. 'A chap with -yellow hair something like mine and a jaw like -an ox.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Know him!' he answered quickly; ''pon my word, -I've been looking at you and wondering whom you -were like. Why, you're as like as two peas, though -he's a bit broader and taller.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Do we know Gerald Wilson? Don Geraldio? -Why, my dear chap, every one knows your brother,' -the other Englishman joined in. 'He's the maddest -chap in the country, and if our Minister doesn't get -him out of it pretty quickly, he'll get his throat cut.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Or be a general in the revolutionary army,' -Macdonald added. 'He's right "in" with the de -Costas.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, that was exciting if you like—to me, but -the mater would be awfully upset if she knew—poor -old mater.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Where's he now?' I asked excitedly. 'I've not -seen him for five years.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Up in Santa Cruz, he lives at the European Club,' -Macdonald answered. Then an idea struck him, and -he continued, 'Some of your people are going up to -the funeral. If you like to go, I'll take you; get -ashore to-morrow morning by 6.30. I'm driving up. -The funeral will be worth seeing, even if you hadn't -your brother up there. I'll find him for you.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Thank you very much, I'll try and get leave,' -I told him, as he went down into his boat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You can bring a couple of your midshipmen if -you like,' he shouted up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was so excited I hardly knew what to think or -do, it was so worrying about Gerald, from the mater's -point of view, and so splendid from mine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To-morrow was my day 'off,' the Commander gave -me leave, the two mids. were, of course, the Angel -and Cousin Bob, and they were too excited to do -anything else but walk up and down the quarterdeck -with their eyes glued on the mountains, where Santa -Cruz lay, in the clouds, five thousand feet above them.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-revolution-breaks-out"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER III</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Revolution breaks out</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Written by Sub-Lieutenant William Wilson, R.N.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A whole crowd of us from the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> and the -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>, all bound for Santa Cruz, went ashore at -six o'clock next morning. On our way inshore, after -we'd pulled round the head of the breakwater, we had -a good view of the Santa Cruz ships. Rotters they -all looked, slovenly kept, nothing seamanlike or -shipshape about them, with their 'wash clothes' -hung about the rigging and even over the -quarterdeck railings—anyhow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And a funny-looking crowd of soldiers they had -too, falling in on the wharf where we landed, ready -to receive the two Skippers when they came ashore—in -uniform—to attend the funeral on duty. They -were all South American natives or full-blooded -niggers, half of them bare-footed, none of them -dressed alike. Some had hats like the French army -</span><em class="italics">kepi</em><span>, others, broad-brimmed felt or straw hats; -their shirts were of every colour under the sun, and -a pair of loose dirty cotton trousers seemed to be -about the only uniform they had. They all had -rifles—of sorts—a bayonet, and a leathern belt hanging -loose over their hips to support a cartridge pouch, -but many had lost their bayonet frogs and scabbards, -and simply stuck the naked bayonet inside the belt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My chum with the gilt spurs and enormous sabre -seemed to be bossing the show, and was too busy -trying to get the men into something like order to -notice me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We all pushed our way along through a not at -all friendly mob of people, Bob and the Angel sticking -to me like leeches. Then we lost the rest of our -people, and felt pretty lost ourselves till a grinning -native caught hold of my sleeve.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'</span><em class="italics">Buenos</em><span>! </span><em class="italics">Señor</em><span>! You </span><em class="italics">Señor Wilson</em><span>? </span><em class="italics">Señor</em><span> -Macdonald send me. I his boy.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We were jolly glad to find any one who would take -us to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'How did you find me in the crowd?' I asked him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'</span><em class="italics">Señor</em><span> Macdonald say you like </span><em class="italics">Señor Geraldio</em><span>. -All peoples know Señor Geraldio.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Blowed for a yarn,' I thought. 'Old Gerald -wouldn't be very flattered.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We stepped out briskly enough then, and you -ought to have seen the Angel strutting along in the -middle of the road, in a blue suit and straw hat, the -trousers beautifully creased, the latest thing in ties -round his neck, the most startling thing in socks -showing under his turned-up trousers, looking as if -he was off to a tea-party in Southsea. Even the -niggers smiled at him and got out of his way. We -came upon Macdonald in a minute or two, waiting -for us at a corner, with a carriage and six -grand-looking mules—the carriage was like a big -two-wheeled governess cart with an awning over it, and -he was so enormous that he almost filled it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In we jumped, the two mids. managed to squeeze -themselves alongside the native driver, our guide -kicked the mules in the stomach, one after the other, -just to wake them up; the driver cracked his whip, -and away we went bump-terappity along the bumpy -road, the bells on the harness jingling like fun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We clattered along past rows and rows of red mud -cottages, dogs flying out at us from every door, and -giving the two mids. a grand time with the whip, -pack mules tied up to the door-posts frisking -about and kicking up their heels as we went past, -and long-legged fowls scattering like smoke in front -of us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You're extraordinarily like your brother, now -you're in plain clothes,' Mr. Macdonald muttered, -with his mouth full—for he'd started on the hampers -already.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Jolly proud of it,' I answered, but he only made -a face and shrugged his shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We started climbing soon after, and the mules had -a pretty hard time of it for the next three hours, -zigzagging up the most appalling road, panting and -grunting. The mids. and I walked the steepest parts, -but neither the driver nor Mr. Macdonald budged -from their seats. The higher we got the more -cheerful we were. It was grand looking down at Puerta -and the sea, with the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> like -toy ships lying inside the breakwater, but -Mr. Macdonald did not let us stop anywhere for more -than a minute at a time, because there was a whole -line of jangling mule carriages coming up after us, -and he didn't want to be overtaken. The mids. didn't -either, for there were four </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> mids. in the -one next behind us, and they were not going to be -beaten by them if they could help it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every now and again, at the corners where the -road zig-zagged, we came across thirty or forty native -soldiers, evidently guarding the way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That looks as if they were expecting trouble,' -Mr. Macdonald told me. 'It's most unusual. D'you see -the colours they have in their hats?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nearly all of them had a patch of yellow and green -stripes sewn on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I've never seen the regular troops wearing them,' -he said. 'Did you notice that the stripes were -</span><em class="italics">vertical</em><span>! That means that they are President's -men. The de Costa's colours are black and green, -but the stripes are worn </span><em class="italics">horizontally</em><span>, and of course -they aren't allowed to wear them.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He shook his head very ominously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Things are going to hum to-day. You'd have -been wiser to stay on board. You're too like your -brother.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You can guess that this only made it more jolly -exciting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every now and then we met long trains of mules -or donkeys, with huge bundles on their backs, -pacing wearily down the road.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They're carrying rubber or cocoa down to Los -Angelos,' Mr. Macdonald said. 'The President makes -them bring all their rubber through Los Angelos; -that's one of the grievances they have against him.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jolly interesting everything was, and once the -men with one long mule train took off their big -hats, bowing and saying, '</span><em class="italics">buenos</em><span>.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They're doing it to you, not to me,' Mr. Macdonald -said. 'They're from Paquintos, close to your brother's -estate, and think you are he.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a jolly funny feeling to land at this -out-of-the-way spot and find so many people appear to -know me; don't you think it was?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time we had left the shade of the tropical -trees below us, and the road and the side of the -mountain were simply bare rock—the heat terrific. -At half-past ten we were at the top, and got our first -glimpse of Santa Cruz spread out in a hollow beneath -us, with mountain ridges all round it. Our mules -roused themselves into a trot, and we slung along at -a good rate, kicking up a cloud of dust. The -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> mids. had been gradually drawing closer, -and now they came along at a gallop, and would have -passed us, singing out rude remarks, but the Angel -seized the whip and beat our poor brutes into a -gallop too, and the teams simply tore along, side by -side, the drivers having all they could do to keep on -the road. The two carriages bounced along close -together, I thought the wheels would lock every -other second, and the mids. were hitting at each other -with their sticks and shouting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Luckily we didn't meet anything, but I saw that, -just ahead, the road narrowed, and that we couldn't -possibly get through there side by side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Let them go ahead,' I shouted, and leant over to -help the driver pull in the team, but then one of the -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> mids. sang out, 'Who upset the coal -lighter?' the others shouted, 'The rotten </span><em class="italics">Hectors</em><span>!'—and -that made me as mad as a hatter. I didn't care -whether we all went to glory or not so long as we -beat them—after that.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Pull up, you fools!' Mr. Macdonald shouted, -but the mules were quite out of hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We came to the narrow part, the leading mules -bumped into each other, then the others, till the -wheelers were touching; our axles bumped once or -twice, there was a lurch and a crash, the other -carriage toppled over on to the bank, the wheeler -mules were on their backs, and the mids. shot out -head over heels as we flew past, the Angel and Bob -cheering wildly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before we were out of sight we saw the four mids. and -the driver on their feet again, trying to right the -carriage, so I knew they weren't hurt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Macdonald simply wagged his head from -side to side. 'It was my weight brought us -through—you'd have upset but for me.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I do actually believe he enjoyed it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We were in the city itself by now, and the mules -had steadied down on the rough stone streets crowded -with people on foot or riding horses or mules. There -were soldiers at every corner—quite smart chaps -these—and they all had the vertical green and yellow -stripes in their helmets or hats. The same colours, -hoisted with the stripes vertical, hung at half-mast -from nearly every house, and the few women, we saw, -had the same colours too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'There are some of de Costa's people,' Mr. Macdonald -sung out, as we passed a group of sunburnt -men outside a café. I looked, and saw that they had -patches of green and black stripes worn horizontally.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They call the two parties the Verticals and -Horizontals,' Mr. Macdonald told me. 'Those are -countrymen; you can see that by their rig.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Hi!' he sung out; 'look up there, up to the left, -that's San Sebastian, where our chaps were put in -"chokey" a fortnight ago.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a crumbling old fort perched on a rocky hill -just above the big building, and we three looked at -it jolly keenly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then we got into the better part of the town, -dazzling big white houses with gratings in front of -every window, and women peering out from behind -the curtains in most of them. Everywhere were -soldiers, and the yellow and green flags drooping at -half-mast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next we drove through a great open place, white -with dust and dazzling in the sun, with a grand old -weather-beaten cathedral on one side, and on the -other some public garden with palms and huge -tropical ferns. We had to draw up to let a regiment -march into the square, and then we wedged our way -out of it, into a side street, turned a corner, and stopped -in front of a big door with strong iron gates, sentries -with fixed bayonets on each side of it, and a whole -jumble of French, English, German, American, and -Dutch ensigns hanging down from a flagstaff above -it. There was a wizened little black chap leaning up -against the wall; he started when he saw me, and let -his cigarette drop out of his mouth. He was an -ugly-looking little beast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The European Club,' Mr. Macdonald said. 'Out -you jump. I bet your brother's in here.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We followed him into a cool courtyard with a -splashing fountain in the middle of it, and through -the open French windows I heard the click of billiard -balls—a jolly homely sound—and, looking in, there -was Gerald, with his coat off, watching the other chap -making his stroke, his jolly old lion head with the -long yellow hair brushed back and his grand square -jaw—not a bit like me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He didn't see me as I went in and touched him on -the back. 'Hello, Gerald!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Hello, Billums! What the dickens are you -doing here? How's the mater? Well played, Arnstein -(this to his opponent). Wait till I've "knocked" him. -Won't be a second.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He won quite easily, and then he stood us all -lunch at the Club. I did my best to pump him -about the revolution, but he kicked me hard under the -table, so I didn't say any more about it. The mids. had -a grand time, hardly uttered a word, but simply -ate steadily through course after course, not even the -excitement of hearing regiments of infantry tramping -past every now and again, with their bands playing, -putting them off their feed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Come along,' Gerald said presently, 'I've got a -window from which we can see everything; there'll -be room for all of you.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Mr. Macdonald wasn't coming, so we left him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Be here by three o'clock,' he said, 'not a minute -later, and I'll drive you back.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As we left the gate I noticed that the sentries -looked rather puzzled at Gerald and myself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I couldn't say anything in there,' Gerald began, -when we'd got out into the crowded street; 'you never -know who may be listening. We're going to have -a revolution, and I'm rather mixed up in it. You saw -that little plain-clothes chap at the gate, he's one of -the President's secret police, and has been shadowing -me for the last four days.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had seen him, the one who'd been so startled -when I went in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Don't you carry a revolver or anything?' I asked -nervously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'My dear old Billums, I've never thought of it.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I bothered him to get one in case anything happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'All right, old chap, I'll think about it.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was too great a crush in the narrow streets -to do much talking, and we had a lot of trouble to push -our way along. There were quite a lot of people -wearing the horizontal black and green stripes in these -streets, and you could tell they were strangers by their -weird-looking clothes and by the way they flocked -along with their eyes and mouths open.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We presently passed a lot of officers standing outside -a doorway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That's the Officers' Club,' Gerald told me, as he -took his hat off, and they all clicked their heels and -saluted, looking from Gerald to myself with that same -puzzled look—they seemed very unfriendly. We waited -a minute or two to let a battery of field artillery rumble -past—the guns were 'horsed' with mules—turned down -another side street, and entered a cool courtyard with -more fountains splashing. There were any number -of people in it; they nearly all had black and green -rosettes with horizontal stripes, and all bowed very -cordially to Gerald. He spoke to several, looked as -if he had heard bad news, and took us into the back -of the Hotel de L'Europe, up some narrow wooden -stairs, opened a door on a narrow landing, and there -we were in a corner room with a large French window -opening on to an iron balcony and overlooking the -great square. The cathedral tower, with its arched -entrance and broad steps, wasn't fifty yards away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You'll get a grand view here—it's cool too—you'd -get sunstroke outside—stay where you are—I'll be back -presently—I've just had some important news,' Gerald -jerked out, and left us to watch the people and the -soldiers pouring into the square—'Plaza' every one -called it. These soldiers were jolly smart-looking -chaps, well dressed and well set up, very different to -those we had seen at Los Angelos. They all had the -vertical green and yellow stripes in their white helmets, -and even we could see that they were pretty rough -in dealing with the people. We saw several of the -ward-room fellows hunting about for a good place to -see the procession, and the two Skippers drove up to -the cathedral, in uniform, the soldiers making a way -for their carriage, and driving the people back by -prodding them in the stomach with the butt-ends of -their rifles.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gerald came in again looking worried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Everything all right?' I asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He nodded, and sat down in a corner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The soldiers don't treat the people very gently,' I -said, and he told me that they were all Presidential troops -in the city that day, and that there was no love lost -between them and the country people, who had poured -into the city to pay respect to the President's wife. -'If you look closely, you'll see that a great many of -these are wearing the badge of the de Costas—the -horizontal green and black stripes.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I heard to-day,' he went on, 'that the President's -wife, just before she died, made her brother, de Costa, -and her husband, José Canilla, shake hands and -promise to keep the peace after she was gone.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Will they?' Bob asked, with his mouth open.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He only smiled and shrugged his shoulders—quite -like a Spaniard. 'They called her </span><em class="italics">La Buena -Presidente</em><span>, and she was a good old lady and kept -the peace, but she's kept back progress and reform for -years. There's no such thing as freedom in the -country. There will soon be a change now.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They named that ship which Armstrong's building -after her, I suppose?' I asked him, and he nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I tried to pump him about her, but he'd tell me -nothing, except that she would be ready very soon, -and was strong enough to blow the rest of the Santa -Cruz Navy out of the water. I knew that well enough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I wanted to ask him if there was any chance of her -new crew favouring the Vice-President's party—as -Mr. Macdonald had suggested—and a whole lot of -other things, but a frightful din started in the 'Plaza.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bob, pointing down below, yelled for us to look, and -we saw a drunken-looking countryman waving his -broad-brimmed felt hat, with an enormous black and -green rosette fastened to it, in the face of one of the -officers with the troops. He tried to take no notice of -it, but in a second or two lost his temper, seized the -rosette, tore it off, threw it on the ground, and stamped -it into the white dust with his patent-leather boots.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a roar of anger at this, booing and -hissing from people crowding in the windows of a house -close by, and the mob beneath us began pushing and -shouting; knives were drawn, the few women there -began screaming, and the soldiers, standing in line, -turned round to drive the people back. Some cavalry -came galloping up, and began hitting at the people -with the flat of their swords. One of them was pulled -off his horse and disappeared in the struggle, people -were pressing in from all sides of the Plaza, and things -began to look jolly ugly, when we heard a pistol fired, -and a very smart-looking young cavalry officer, who -was trying to get his men together, reeled in his -saddle and fell on the ground, his fiery little horse -plunging away down the swaying lines of soldiers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Women screamed, every one stopped struggling -and drew back, leaving him lying there, by himself, all -doubled up in a heap, in the dust, blood trickling from -his mouth. Almost before we'd realised what had -happened, a young priest, in black cassock, dashed -across from the cathedral steps, knelt down, and lifted -the officer's head on his knee. We saw him press a -little black crucifix to his lips, but it was too late, the -poor chap was as dead as a door-nail.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then there was another wild burst of shouting and -hooting from the mob and from the people at the -windows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They've got the man who fired the shot,' Bob -squeaked—he was so excited—and we could see a lot -of soldiers struggling with a very tall man. He -wrested himself free, knocked down one or two, burst -through the line of troops, and went running away -from the cathedral, the crowd trying to prevent the -soldiers following. I'd never seen anything so -exciting. He dodged, and doubled, and got clear again -for a second, running towards one corner, but there were -soldiers everywhere, one of them tripped him with the -butt-end of his rifle, and he fell sprawling on the -pavement right under our window. Before you could -say a word, a couple of soldiers had driven their -bayonets through him—we could actually hear the -points knocking against the pavement. In a moment -the mob were on them, and a fierce fight commenced. -What would have happened I don't know, but then -the loud crashing music of the Dead March in 'Saul' -sounded from the opposite side of the square.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Thank God,' I heard Gerald mutter, 'here comes -the procession.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Officers dashed up again, shouting and cursing, -the soldiers fell back into line, the mob hid their -knives and took up their places, the space in front -of the cathedral was cleared in a twinkling-, Bob, -leaning out of the window, told us that they'd brought -the body of the officer into the hotel, and that the -other body had disappeared, the purple velvet -hangings which hid the cathedral entrance from us were -drawn apart, and, right in the middle, on the top step, -a tall old priest, gorgeously dressed, was standing -with his arms lifted up. He must have been a bishop -at the very least, because directly the people saw him, -they fell on their knees in the dust, leaving only the -soldiers standing erect.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This really was a most extraordinary effect after the -noise, and yelling, and struggling of a few moments -before. Now nothing could be heard, except, some -way off, the funeral march, the clatter of cavalry -horses, and the grating of the wheels of the funeral -car, a dark mass we could see just entering the square.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Behind the cavalry marched a couple of companies -of sailors from the ships at Los Angelos, their white -uniforms stained with sweat; then came eight horses, -with velvet cloths flowing almost to the ground, -dragging the great state funeral car covered with more -purple velvet, the troops reversing arms and the -kneeling people crossing themselves as it passed in -front of them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Walking two or three yards behind the car were -two men, and then a gap in the procession.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'There they are,' Gerald said excitedly. 'The little -wizened chap in uniform, with the grey moustaches, is -the President, and the fat man in plain clothes the -Vice-President.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two walked slowly past under our window, and -we got a jolly good view of them. The little chap -was covered with orders and medals, and looked a -grand little soldier and jolly fierce, whilst the big chap, -clumsily built, slouched along, one step behind the -President, and didn't seem at all at ease. He was -perspiring very much too—his collar was all limp—and -he kept on looking from side to side as if he didn't -much care for his job.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You wouldn't if you were he,' Gerald half shouted. -He had to shout, because the massed bands were now -passing beneath us kicking up the most appalling din.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After the bands had gone by, long rows of people, -some in uniform, others in plain clothes—notable -people of sorts, I suppose—went shuffling past, -looking hot and uncomfortable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We saw the cavalry and seamen halt, forming a -guard on each side of the cathedral steps, and then, as -the big hearse drew up at the foot of them, a great -discordant bell clanged out from the tower above, and -a second later there was the loud boom of a gun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That's the first minute-gun from San Sebastian,' -Gerald said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The bands suddenly ceased, from the open cathedral -doors we heard the grand rolling sound of an organ, -and, as the coffin was borne up the steps, choristers -broke out into a shrill anthem—an awfully melancholy -sound, which made me catch my breath for a second.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The little President and the lumbering great -Vice-President, mopping his forehead, walked after the coffin -side by side, and disappeared into the gloom of the -cathedral, followed by all the untidy string of notables, -who scrambled in after them in a very undignified -manner, as though they wanted to get out of the heat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the last one crowded in, the velvet curtains -were drawn across the door again and shut out the -noise of the singing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That's the last time any one will see those two -together again in peace,' Gerald muttered, and turning -round I saw that he was looking fearfully worried and -anxious.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What's the matter?' I asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'There's hardly a Vice-President's man among -that lot,' he whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What's that mean?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They've cleared out, Billums—fled to the country—it's -the beginning. Something's gone wrong. It's -beginning too soon.' He was very excited, and -could hardly sit still. In a minute or two he jumped -up, sang out that he must find out how the land -'lay,' and told us to stay where we were.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'If there's any shooting, lie down on the floor—there -may be some.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Let me come with you?' I asked, awfully keen to -go, but he shook his head, and went out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I wished he'd have let me go with him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The mids. hadn't noticed him go, for they were -tremendously excited again. Some more cavalry -were clattering along between the lines of soldiers, -and in front of them, his black horse flecked with -white foam, they had recognised the Governor of -Los Angelos and his two A.D.C.'s, the fat little chap -looking a jolly sight smarter on a horse than he did -climbing down ladders on board the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>. They -stopped opposite the cathedral, dismounted, the -Governor strode up the steps, the black A.D.C. handed -him a big blue paper, and he stood there -looking nervously first at the velvet curtains drawn -across the entrance, and then at the troops and the -kneeling masses of people behind them. A battery -of field artillery began unlimbering on each side of -the steps, the guns pointing straight across the Plaza, -more infantry marched up and formed a semicircle, -four deep, round the base of the steps, and the line -of soldiers, turning round, forced the people to rise -from their knees, and pressed them back away from -the cathedral. There wasn't the least doubt that -something was going to happen, and I remembered that -Mr. Macdonald had told us that the Vice-President -might be arrested or shot directly after the -service—perhaps that blue paper the Governor of Los Angelos -had in his hand was the warrant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All this time the huge bell in the cathedral tower -above us clanged and jarred, and the minute-guns -from San Sebastian shook the air, and made it feel -even hotter than it was. We were so excited that, for -a moment, I forgot about Gerald.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly we heard the organ inside the cathedral -throbbing, the velvet curtains were drawn aside, the -Governor of Los Angelos, unfolding his blue paper, -sprang forward, and the little white figure of the -President appeared. The massed bands blared out -some weird tune—probably the Santa Cruz National -Anthem—the troops presented arms, the Governor -saluted, and then seemed uncertain what to do. He -was looking for some one—the Vice-President, I felt -certain—but his clumsy figure didn't appear, only the -long string of notables. I saw the Governor shake -his head and disappear into the cathedral, one of his -A.D.C.'s dashed down the steps, and the President, -without looking back or moving a muscle of his face, -mounted a white horse, which was waiting for him, -and cantered away at the head of a cavalry escort, -all the troops presenting arms and shouting, '</span><em class="italics">Viva -el Presidente</em><span>.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once or twice since we'd been in that window, -hawkers had tried to make us buy things by shoving -up little baskets, of sweets and fruit, fastened to long -poles. They went from window to window and did a -roaring trade. Now as we watched the President -cantering away, another basket was thrust up. I -pushed it away, but it came again. I shook my head -at the man down below who had done it, and saw -something strange in his expression. He nodded, and -motioned with his free hand as if he wanted me to -pick something out, shoving the basket right under -my nose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I looked in, and there, under some small oranges, -was a piece of folded paper. I seized it, the basket -was drawn down again, and I unfolded it. Hurriedly -scrawled there was, 'Can't come back. Get back to -the Club quickly, and stay there.—Gerald.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Phew!' I went cold all over with excitement. I -didn't know what to think.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I looked at my watch, it was 1.30, and remembered -that Mr. Macdonald had told us chaffingly that the -revolution would begin at 1.25 sharp. I wasn't -going to move yet, especially if there was going to be -any fighting; we hadn't to meet Mr. Macdonald till -three o'clock, and we might as well see all the fun -there was going on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The soldiers began clearing the square now, -crowds of people passing along under our windows, -Bob and his chum spotted some of our mids., and -yelled to them and to the four </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> mids. who -came by too, but the noise was so great, and they -were so busy shoving and pushing in the hot crowd, -that they didn't hear them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently Captain Grattan—Old Tin Eye—squinting -through his eyeglass and smiling at the crowd, -Captain Roger Hill, sitting bolt upright and looking -bored, Perkins, and the Fleet Surgeon drove past in a -carriage. They were all in uniform, and the soldiers -made a way for them through the people.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'There's not going to be any firing after all,' the -Angel said sadly. 'Look how peaceably all the -people are clearing out.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, come along,' I sang out, 'we'll go along to -the Club,' so we picked up our hats and sticks, -opened the door, and ran 'slick' into the arms of that -ugly little chap I'd seen outside the Club—the one -Gerald said had been shadowing him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had half-a-dozen sturdy nigger soldiers behind -him, and he held up a blue paper in front of me, -grinning cunningly—hateful little beast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I couldn't read the lingo, but there was Señor -Gerald Wilson written among the print, and a -scrawling 'José Canilla' at the bottom, so I guessed -at once that this was a warrant for Gerald's arrest, and -that he must have given the little beast the slip. The -nigger chaps began closing round me, and had the -cheek to try and seize hold of my wrists.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, I'm pretty strong, and I'm pretty bad-tempered -too, and this was too much for me. I'd -torn the warrant to bits, punched Gerald's friend good -and hard in the face, and laid out the first two chaps -who'd touched me—banged their heads against the -woodwork of the narrow passage, before I'd thought -of it—but then the others drew their revolvers, -and that wasn't playing the game. I yelled to -the mids., shoved them back into the room, banged -the door, and slipped two bolts in as the chaps -charged it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Lean out and try to get some of our fellows to -help us,' I sang out; 'I'll hang on to the door.' It -was the first idea that came, but then it flashed through -my head that the longer I kept them fooling round -after me, the more chance Gerald would have of -escaping—I knew now that that was what he must -be doing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Slide down into the street—over the balcony—get -to the Club—and tell the Skipper I've been -arrested,' I yelled out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ain't going to leave you,' the Angel and Bob -cried, and came in again and got their shoulders -against the door. 'There's not a single one of our -chaps about,' they panted, pushing against the -creaking door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My Christopher! it was a shoving match. Luckily -the passage outside was so narrow that only two -people abreast could shove properly, but the screws -in the clasps of the bolts at the top of the door began -to 'draw,' and I knew we couldn't hold them for -long. Then they fired a pistol through the door—high -up—the bullet smashing against the opposite wall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I knew it was no use staying any longer, I didn't -want a bullet in me. 'Clear out, and I'll come too,' -I sang out, and we bolted to the window, climbed -over the balcony, and shinned down the iron uprights. -As my feet touched the pavement, a dozen soldiers -threw themselves on top of me; I hadn't a chance to -strike out, my head was covered with a cloak, and the -next I knew I was inside the hotel bar, being trussed -like a turkey.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As soon as he could do it safely, the little brute -who'd had the warrant came and kicked me in the -stomach and spat at me—I must have had my pipe -in my hand when I hit him, for he had a gash across -his forehead—and the two whose heads I'd banged -came along and kicked me too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thank goodness, Bob and his chum weren't there—I -guessed that they'd been cute enough to cut away -to the Club.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Even then I rather enjoyed it (not the kicking -part—I'd be even with those swine some day), thinking -how disappointed they would all be when they found -that I wasn't Gerald.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some more soldiers poured into the room, the -little brute pulled a dirty greasy cloth off a table, I -was covered with it, carried outside like a sack of -potatoes, and dumped into a cart. Something else -soft was dumped in beside me, half-a-dozen chaps -sat on me to keep me quiet, and off we drove. I -could hear horses' hoofs on either side of the cart and -the clatter of scabbards and jingle of accoutrements, -so knew I had a cavalry escort, and felt jolly proud -that Gerald was such a big 'pot' in the revolution -business as to require one.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We went slowly after a little while—going uphill. -I wondered whether they were taking me to San -Sebastian, but didn't wonder long, because a minute-gun -was fired—about the last of them—and it sounded -quite close.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a minute or two we bumped and rattled across -a wooden bridge, and then stopped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As I was hauled out, they pulled the cloth away -from the soft thing beside me, and it was the body -of the officer who'd been shot in the square. -Ugh! that was rather beastly. An old chap came -along—the boss of the fort, I suppose—and jawed to me in -French and Spanish, and got savage when I couldn't -understand him. He thought I </span><em class="italics">wouldn't</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He soon got tired of this, and I was led across the -courtyard by a band of ruffians with fixed bayonets -and loaded rifles (I saw them load their magazines). -We passed behind the crumbling old walls, where a -party of soldiers were cleaning out the saluting guns, -and I was shoved into a kind of store-room, dug out -of the rock or in the thickness of the walls, and shut -in there by a big iron gateway of a door, on the -outside of which a miserable little beast of a half-nigger -sentry leant and smoked cigarettes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were seven others in there, all quiet -individuals in plain clothes, who rose and bowed to me -when I was brought in, thinking at first, I suppose, -that I was Gerald. They looked very relieved when -they saw that I wasn't. Two of them had rosettes of -black and green with the stripes horizontal, so I -knew why they were there. One very courteous old -gentleman put a cigarette between my lips, lighted -it with his own, and then slacked off the ropes round -my wrists and arms, the sentry, turning round to -watch us, simply shrugged his shoulders when my -arms were free again, and I commenced whirling -them round and round to try and do away with the -numbness and the 'pins and needles.' He just half -opened the breech-bolt of his Mauser rifle, pointed -very suggestively at the cartridges inside, turned -round again, and went on smoking. Somebody -offered me an empty cartridge-box and I sat on it, -watching the other chaps busy writing things in -notebooks or even on their shirt cuffs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It struck me that possibly they were writing their -'wills.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well! that was a funny ending to my first day -ashore, if you like, though so long as Gerald got -clear away I didn't mind, and so long as Bob and his -chum had fetched up at the Club I knew that things -would turn out all right.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was jolly hot in that hole of a place, and as the -afternoon went on the sun shone straight in through -the gratings of the door and it was like an oven.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I sweated like a pig.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every now and then I heard a cart rattle across -the drawbridge. That generally meant a fresh -arrival, some other Horizontal caught, and he'd be -shoved in with us. At first I was terribly afraid lest -I should see Gerald brought along; but four o'clock -came, Gerald evidently hadn't been caught, and I -began to feel quite easy in my mind about him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I did wonder why nobody from the ship had come -along, but wasn't particularly worried. Things -would 'pan out' all right, and this was a rummy -enough experience for any one.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just after four o'clock there was great excitement -in the courtyard outside. Soldiers ran about hunting -for their rifles and formed up behind the saluting -guns, trumpets sounded some kind of a 'general -salute,' I heard a lot of horses' hoofs clattering over -the drawbridge, and a few minutes later round the -corner stalked the little President and a crowd of -officers, the Governor of Los Angelos and his two -A.D.C.'s among them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He'd evidently come along to count his day's 'bag,' -for he walked along the grating looking in at us. -My aunt! he had the cruellest eyes I'd ever seen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He first caught sight of the old chap who'd -unfastened my ropes. Phew! he did give him a piece -of his mind through the grating! and then the old -fellow was dragged out and marched off to a bit of -blank wall between two of the saluting guns. The -fat little A.D.C. went up to him, and then I knew -what was going to happen, for I saw him offer to tie -a handkerchief across his eyes—he was going to be -shot. But he wouldn't have his eyes covered, and -for a moment I saw him standing bolt upright with -his arms folded in front of him. Then some soldiers -ran up, stood in a line between him and me, an -officer gave an order, their rifles went up to the -present; I turned my head away and saw the other -prisoners clutching the gratings, their throat muscles -all swollen, and their eyes starting out; there was a -scraggy volley, and the President came back again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two more men were hauled out and shot, and I -shall never forget the face of one of them as he was -marched away. It was just like picking a fat hen -out of a coop, and we were the hens. Then back -the President came a fourth time, and I was dragged -out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He knew that I wasn't Gerald right enough, but -his eyes simply spat fire, and he stamped with rage -and was more furious than ever because I couldn't -understand him.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 77%" id="figure-120"> -<span id="his-eyes-simply-spat-fire"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""HIS EYES SPAT FIRE"" src="images/img-074.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"HIS EYES SPAT FIRE"</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>The fat little A.D.C. was called up to ask questions. -He gave me a friendly wink, and I notched up a point -in his favour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He jabbered away to the President and I heard -'Wilson no Don Geraldio' and '</span><em class="italics">Hector buque de -guerra—Inglesa—Los Angelos</em><span>.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He asked me if I knew where Gerald was. Of -course I didn't and shook my head, 'No! old chap, -I don't.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The President didn't believe it when this was told -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'El Presidente say shoot you if do not say where -is Don Geraldio.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course that was only bluff, and I smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the firing party were called across, but that -was still only bluff, I thought, and it didn't frighten -me in the least till I saw the fat little A.D.C.'s face -turn yellow under his brown skin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, then I was in a mortal funk, if you like, and -something inside me went flop down into my boots.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Our cannon—cannon of </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>—shoot thirty -kilometres,' I jerked out, remembering how impressed -the A.D.C.'s had been with our after 9.2, my tongue -feeling a bit sticky and my knees not altogether steady.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old Governor, the two A.D.C.'s, and several -other officers were evidently doing their best for me. -I heard 'kilometres' mentioned once or twice, and -then the President waved his hand majestically and -I was taken back and the grating locked behind me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My head was buzzing, and I don't mind telling -you that I felt a jolly sight more comfortable inside -than outside—just then. The little President and all -his staff went away, and I heard their horses clattering -over the drawbridge. Before he went away, my fat -little pal came along and held out his cigarette case -through the gratings. I bowed and smiled and took -one cigarette; but he shook his head, he wanted me -to empty it. I did this and then had a brilliant -inspiration. My cigarette case was a pretty decent one, -so I offered him mine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We change cigarette cases—for remembrance—I -shall always remember,' I said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The kind-hearted little chap seemed quite pleased, -took mine as I took his, bowed, said '</span><em class="italics">Adios</em><span>! I also -shall remember,' and went after the others as fast as -his spurs and his sabre and his fat little legs would -let him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I sat down on my cartridge-box and wondered -what the dickens 'Old Tin Eye' was doing and what -had become of Bob and the Angel, smoked one of my -pal's cigarettes, examined the cigarette case—it was -an oxydised silver one with black enamel work, -probably made in Paris—and watched some black -convicts with chains round their ankles filling in -three graves under the wall opposite.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Phew! there might have been four if I hadn't -remembered about the 9.2's and the thirty kilometres. -I shivered and felt jolly sick, and wished to goodness -I was back again in the </span><em class="italics">Hector's</em><span> gun-room.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-rescue-of-the-sub"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Rescue of the Sub</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Written by Midshipman Bob Temple</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'Cut along to the Club and find the Skipper,' -Billums had sung out as we slid down from that -window at the Hotel de L'Europe, and when we -jumped to the pavement we saw all the soldier -chaps—dozens of them—pouncing on him. They didn't -pay any attention to us, and it was no good stopping -there, so my chum, the Angel, and I scooted away as -fast as we could go.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We wormed our way round the corner, out of the -square all right, and then we lost ourselves, and were -wedged in among an awful crowd of people, carts -and mules, cavalry and artillery all jumbled up -together, jostling and shoving and cursing. We -could hardly move at all, or see where we were going.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We did get along presently, and kept looking -down the side streets to try and see all those flags -over the Club gate, but we'd forgotten exactly which -turning it was. We'd work our way to the outside of -the crowd and dart down a side street, looking for the -flags and those two sentries, and dart back again into -the main street, holding on to each other so as not to -get separated, and push and push till we got to the -next side street. It was awfully hot work; we couldn't -find it and I simply felt terrified about Billums, when -we ran into those four </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> mids. whom we'd -upset in the morning. I'd never been so glad to see -any one before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Hello! Coal lighters! What's the hurry?' they -sang out. 'Looking for coal?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We didn't mind that in the least.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Where's the Club?' we gasped. 'Quick! tell -us! Our Sub's been arrested, and we want to find -our Skipper.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We've just come from there,' they shouted. 'My -aunt! what a lark! Come along!' and they -turned back and all six of us pushed our way along. -It was hot work, if you like.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What's he been up to?' one of them asked me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They think he's an insurgent; he is just like his -brother who is one.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We saw the flags almost directly, dashed through -the gateway into the Club, the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> mids. after us, -and saw Mr. Perkins sitting under a punkah trying -to get cool.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Where's the Captain, sir?' we asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Don't know! Was here ten minutes ago.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We hunted everywhere—he wasn't in the Club—and -ran back to Mr. Perkins.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The Sub's been arrested, sir; they're half-killing -him. They think he's his brother and have carried -him off. What can we do?' Mr. Perkins whistled -and scratched his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That big German man who had been playing -billiards with cousin Gerald in the morning was -sitting close by and jumped up, 'What you say? -Gerald Wilson caught?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No,' we both piped out, 'not Gerald, his brother -Bill, our Sub; they've collared him at the hotel near -the cathedral.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Phew! that's awkward! Something must be -done at once. They'd shoot Gerald Wilson if they -caught him, and they may shoot his brother.' He -spoke very rapidly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What can be done?' Mr. Perkins asked, his red -face getting quite white.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'll drive you to the British Minister—it's a long -way out of the town—he's gone there, I know—that's -the only thing we can do—you'll have to wait till my -carriage comes.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We did wait, waited for half an hour—it seemed -hours, and though Mr. Perkins stood us lemon -squashes and cakes we were much too worried to eat -anything. The </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> mids. waited about—the -greedy pigs—till Mr. Perkins had to order some for -them too, and they finished the whole lot of cakes, -ours as well as theirs. Then the big German called -us, and he and Mr. Perkins and we two drove away. -It was a quarter to three and Mr. Macdonald would -be expecting us in a quarter of an hour—whatever -should we do I The Angel and I couldn't keep our -feet still—we felt so awful—because we could have -walked faster than the carriage went in the crowded -streets. When we turned down a side street, the -nigger driver lashed the horses into a gallop, we got -out into the country, and presently pulled up at a big -white house with the Union Jack flying above it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oh! It was so comforting to see it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Out we jumped, the German hurried us through a -courtyard, a black footman in livery led us through a -lot of beautiful cool rooms into a garden with palms -and fountains, and we saw a whole crowd of -people—English ladies too—sitting in the shade. We -forgot to be shy, we were so frightened, caught sight -of Captain Grattan and Captain Roger Hill, and, -without waiting, simply ran up to them through all -the ladies, and told them all about it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Tut, tut, tut, tut,' our Captain said, jumping out -of his chair and screwing in his eyeglass. 'Tut, tut, -that's serious. Come this way,' and he took us in to -the British Minister—a big tall chap with a nose -like a hawk and great bushy eyebrows, dressed -in white duck clothes. We had to tell our story -again, clutching each other; he made us so frightened, -looking at us so fiercely. You couldn't tell from his -face what he thought of it, but he told the Captain that -he'd change into uniform and take us to the President -right away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's serious,' he said. 'Gerald Wilson is too -openly mixed up in politics to claim our protection, -and things may go badly with his brother.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We felt so jolly relieved that something was at -last going to be done that we did have some tea then, -the ladies crowding round the Angel and helping him, -though they weren't so keen on me—they never are, -which is a jolly good thing. 'If I'd a face like a -girl's they'd fuss round me too,' I told the Angel, -and he was beastly rude and called me 'Old Pimple -Face,' and made them all laugh at me. I could have -kicked him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Minister was back again before we'd finished -stuffing, and then hurried us away—he and the -Captain in one carriage, and Mr. Perkins and we two -in another.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We drove as fast as ever we could back to the town, -and the soldiers we passed looked as if they'd like to -shoot us. They scowled so much that I was jolly -glad that the Minister was in his gorgeous gold braid -uniform and the Captain and Mr. Perkins were in -theirs. We had to pass close to San Sebastian, and -we told Mr. Perkins that that was probably where -Billums had been taken. 'Mr. Macdonald told us -they take all the revolutionary people there.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just as we'd told him this, we heard a scrappy -kind of a volley from inside the walls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Good God!' Mr. Perkins nearly jumped off his -seat, his red face turning quite yellow; 'they're -shooting people already. Why can't we go faster?' I -almost blubbed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We were back again in the city now, the streets -simply filled with soldiers, leaning up against the -walls, trying to find a little shade and some of them -shouting rudely at us as we passed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last we stopped opposite some big iron gates -through which soldiers were coming and going in -hundreds. The sentries there wouldn't let the -Minister pass through at first, till an officer came -along. Then we all got out and walked in, following -the Minister, who stalked along, head and shoulders -taller than any of the officers standing about, and -pushed his way into a big room crowded with very -excited people, most of them officers, half of them -niggers and the other half not much lighter. They -left off chattering as we appeared, and bowed and -clicked their heels when they saw the Minister, but -didn't look at all pleased.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They hate us English,' I heard the Minister tell -the Captain. 'Most of us favour the Vice-President's -party, though only Gerald Wilson has been fool -enough to do so openly.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We stuck very closely to him whilst officers and -orderlies kept on streaming in and out of a small door -leading into another room. Most of their uniforms -were jolly smart—either white with yellow facings or -khaki with white facings. Cavalry officers had a -light-blue striped cotton tunic fitting very tightly and -very bulging khaki riding-breeches. They looked -awful dandies, and all wore stiff white shirts with cuffs -although it was so hot—the blacker they were and the -more like niggers, the more stiff white cuffs they -showed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What the Angel and I noticed chiefly about the -infantry officers was that they didn't seem to worry so -much whether their clothes fitted them, and they nearly -all wore patent-leather 'Jemima' boots, with the elastic -generally worn out and quite loose round the ankles.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The President is not here—won't be here for some -time—he's gone to San Sebastian,' the Minister said -in a low voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You could never tell whether he was worried about -it or not—his voice and his face never changed. 'We -shall have to wait. He's a fiery little chap—thinks he -is the Napoleon of the west, and loves to show off -before us Europeans. He'll be in a pretty bad temper -to-day. He meant to arrest the Vice-President, de -Costa, as he left the cathedral, but he and his friends -got wind of it and left by a side door; smuggled -away as priests or nuns, some say, and have slipped -through his fingers. He meant to "scotch" the -revolution which is coming, and he's failed badly, so -he'll be a pretty handful to tackle.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, </span><em class="italics">he</em><span> might be able to tackle him,' the Angel -whispered, and we both thought that he looked perfectly -grand in his uniform. Then there was a great clatter -outside; we could hear officers calling their men to -attention; trumpets were blown, all the officers in the -room took their cigarettes out of their mouths, stood -bolt-upright, and in came the President just as we'd -seen him in the procession. Every one made a lane -for him to pass into the room beyond, and he spotted -us, but hardly took any notice of the Minister's salute -or of our Captain's either, which made the Angel and -me very angry, though we were really too frightened -at his very cruel-looking eyes to be angry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Several people followed him—all very gorgeously -dressed—covered with medals and with green and -yellow sashes over their shoulders, and the last to -come in was the little A.D.C. from Los Angelos with -the big spurs and the curved sword.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Minister spoke to one of them, who seemed -to be doing 'orderly' officer, but he only shrugged -his shoulders, went into the little room. We heard a -few fierce words and back he came, shrugging his -shoulders all the more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He says the President is too busy to see me,' the -Minister told the Captain, who was gradually getting -angry at being treated like this. Then there was -another commotion, and in came the grand-looking old -Governor of Los Angelos and the black A.D.C. He -seemed to be a friend of the Minister, for he stopped -and shook his hand, bowed and yarned quite pleasantly. -He too went into the other room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I've told him that I must see the President,' the -Minister said, and we waited again, though even he -wasn't successful, and came back shrugging his -shoulders and spreading out his hands, his great -sword clanking along the floor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Minister's face never altered the slightest bit. -'He refuses to see me—will only receive the senior -foreign Minister—that is the Comte de Launy, the -Frenchman. It's no use waiting here any longer—we -must go and find him—it will take an hour.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His voice never altered in the slightest degree, but -the Captain was 'tut tutting' and polishing his -eye-glass, whilst Mr. Perkins was bubbling over with -wrath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As we went out we saw the officers all sneering at -us, but the Governor sang out something very angrily, -and they stood to attention and he himself bowed us -out. We were jolly glad to get out, I can tell you, -because it was such a horrid feeling to have all these -strange fierce-looking officers all round us without -being able to understand a word they said, and to feel -certain that they'd like to murder us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, the old Governor's a gent, isn't he?' the -Angel whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We drove back to the Residence—I was feeling -awfully sick with funk about Billums—and there we -were left whilst the Captain and the Minister drove -away again to find the Frenchman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was long after four o'clock; Mr. Macdonald would -be on his way down to Los Angelos, and we hadn't -the least idea how we should get back; but we didn't -want to go back so long as old Billums was shut up -in San Sebastian, and might be shot any minute.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were only three ladies there now, the -Minister's wife and her two daughters, and they did -their very best to cheer us up. The Angel was in -great form—he always was when ladies were about—and -sang his rotten songs; but as I couldn't sit still, I -wandered out into the courtyard, and fed some goldfish -in one of the fountains. It was fairly cool there, -and every time I heard wheels I ran to the gateway, -but they didn't come back till nearly six o'clock, and -when I rushed out, hoping to see Billums with them, -there was only a dried-up little man in another -gorgeous uniform—the French Minister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No good, Temple,' the Captain said, looking -awfully serious.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He won't let him go till his brother surrenders—does -it to humiliate us.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What are you going to do now, sir?' I asked -him, but he didn't answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They all three drove away again, and Mr. Perkins -told me that they were going to collect all the foreign -Ministers, and intended to see him in a body.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he and we two mids. had to do more waiting—it -was terrible. The sun went down, it got dark -quite suddenly, and we couldn't help thinking of the -awful road down the mountains to Los Angelos and -how we were going to get down there at night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Minister's wife gave us some dinner and tried -to be jolly, but I couldn't be, and couldn't eat anything. -She and the girls were pretty nervous too, because, all -the time we were pretending to have dinner, there were -noises as if a riot was going on in the town. We -were all fidgeting, and the black men-servants in their -scarlet liveries were very jumpy. You could see by -the way they moved about that they were frightened too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Minister's wife made them close the big -windows and that drowned a good deal of the noise, -and I couldn't see the dark creepy shadows of the -palms outside and felt less uncomfortable. She kept -on saying, 'I wish your father would come back,' and, -just as we were going to have some coffee, we heard -the banging of rifles. The black footman dropped -his tray, and all of them simply trembled. It was no -use to sit any longer at the table, the two girls began -to cry, and then it was our turn to do something to -help.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The firing sometimes seemed to be coming our -way, so we three went round the garden and made sure -that all the gates were locked—a jolly creepy job it -was out there in the dark, and I jumped every time -I heard a rifle go off. The servants were all standing -about, whispering and looking frightened, which made -it all the more horrid; so, to give them something to -do, we sent them to close all the shutters, though we -couldn't get them to go into the street to close some -there, and had to do that ourselves. Then we made -the three ladies come into the drawing-room, lighted -all the lamps, and tried to cheer them up. The Angel -played the piano, and Mr. Perkins, who hates singing, -bellowed out some sea-songs and made them join in -the choruses. That wasn't much of a success, so he -scratched his funny old head and did a few tricks. -One was to stand straight upright and then sit down -on the floor without bending his knees, and he did -it so jolly well that it nearly shook the ornaments off -the mantelpiece, and the bump frightened them all. -Then he showed them how he could fall flat on his -chest without bending his knees, and did it, but -banged his chin hard on the polished floor, so that -wasn't quite a success either.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We couldn't think of any other tricks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nine o'clock came, and ten o'clock—there was no -firing now—and half-past ten came before we heard -several carriages coming towards the house, and went -out into the courtyard to the street gate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Minister, the Captain, the tall German, who -turned out to be the German Minister, and was in a -grand-looking uniform, the little Frenchman, four or -five others, and the United States Minister in ordinary -evening dress, got down, and then several ladies, -closely wrapped up, came in too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All the Ministers disappeared into another room -by themselves, only the Captain and the ladies -coming into the drawing-room. He was saying 'tut, -tut' all the time, and all we could get out of him -was, 'We've been treated like children—tut, tut—by a -miserable half-bred savage—he won't listen to us.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'A lot of firing going on in the city, isn't there, -sir?' Mr. Perkins asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Only a few drunken soldiers letting off their -rifles,' he grunted, and then he was sent for, and a -few minutes afterwards a man-servant came in to ask -the Minister's wife to speak to her husband. She -went out, and we could hear her speaking to him, and -back she came looking very pale. 'Captain Grattan' -(that was our Captain) 'has asked us to stay on -board the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>, my dears; we are going down with -him to-night.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She tried to look cheerful, but they and we knew -what that meant—that it wasn't safe for them in Santa -Cruz any longer—and the girls began to cry again. -All three of them went away to get ready.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Phew! Great smokes,' Mr. Perkins whistled, -'it's come to a pretty pass—that ass of a Sub has -stirred up a hornets' nest, if you like.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It wasn't his fault, sir,' I said; 'he couldn't -help it.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just then the Captain and the Ministers trooped in. -They looked as though they'd come to some decision -which pleased them, and it made the Angel and me -feel more happy about poor old Billums up there in -San Sebastian. We both wondered whether he'd had -any dinner, and what he thought had become of us—all -this time. Some more ladies came in, all wrapped up -in furs because the night was very cold, and in the -middle of all the hubbub we heard a lot of cavalry -coming along. They stopped outside the house, and -a moment later the Governor of Los Angelos, with his -two A.D.C.'s, came in. Weren't we pleased to see -him, that's all! There was more bowing and -scraping, coffee was handed round, and we two edged -alongside the little A.D.C. who had talked English -in the gun-room yesterday. He recognised us then -and said, smiling, 'We take you to Los Angelos -to-night—the señoras and the señoritas also—we -have many horse soldiers—the road it has much -danger.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'How about Billums—William Wilson—our Sub?' -we asked, 'up in San Sebastian.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He smiled, and pulled out—what d'you think?—old -Billums's cigarette case—I knew it jolly well—and said, -'I give him my—he give me him,' but shut up like -an oyster, shrugged his shoulders, and shook his head -when we asked him if Billums was coming with us. -That made us miserable again, and we went out to see -what the cavalry escort were like. They had -dismounted, and were swaggering into the courtyard, -looking absolute villains, most of them niggers, -their carbines and bandoliers over their shoulders, -revolvers in their belts, and swords, which clanked -and rattled whenever they moved. The servants -were giving them cigarettes and some food, but, -for all that, they didn't seem at all friendly, and the -whites of their eyes showed up under the swinging -lanterns, and made them look more like brigands than -ever. The Angel palled up to them and made them -show him their rifles, but I felt too frightened and -only hoped that the Governor was coming with us. -The carriages drove up, all the ladies came out and -were put into them, the dear old Governor of Los -Angelos handing them in and bending down to kiss -our Minister's wife's hands in such a jolly manner -that the Angel and I could have hugged him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We felt that he could be absolutely trusted, and -weren't we jolly glad again when his horse was led up -and he and part of the escort rode away with the ladies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the last carriage the Captain, Mr. Perkins, and -we two mids. were stowed, and away we went after -them with the two A.D.C.'s bobbing behind on their -horses and the rest of the escort, leaving the Ministers -all standing together under the lamp which lit up -their faces and all their beautiful gold lace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They don't look very "sniffy," do they?' I -whispered to the Angel, 'I should if I was letting my -wife go away like this.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Not if you'd got those uniforms on and had a -Frenchman or a German or a Dutchman watching -you,' he whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I expect he was right.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Governor came clattering back on his great -horse to see that we'd started, and then went on ahead -again, the black A.D.C. bumping along after him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You can imagine what a row we made, and how, -as we got into the streets, all the shutters of the -windows were thrown back and people peered at us -from behind the bars; dogs, too, flew out and barked -from every doorway. It was a wonderful night—a -big moon and millions of stars, the tops of the -mountains showing up all round us. Jolly cold it -was, too, and the Angel and I were glad to snuggle -together under a rug.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We seemed to go a long way round, skirting the -city, and though sometimes at street corners pickets -and patrols challenged us, they were quite satisfied. -Presently we passed close to a great shadowy building -high up on our right. It had a funny little tower at -one corner, and we recognised the shadow at once—it -was San Sebastian.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Angel and I squeezed each other to buck ourselves -up, and kept our eyes on it all the time. It -looked most awfully gloomy, and it seemed horrid to -think that only twelve hours ago Billums had driven -past it with us, and now he was inside and we were -going back without him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What will he think of us?' I gulped. 'Poor old -Billums!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, we got on to the main road, left the city -behind us, and presently began to go downhill. Mr. Perkins -went to sleep soon, his jolly red face rolling -from side to side as the carriage bumped, and the -Captain snuggled down in the other corner, and we -knew when he went to sleep, because his eyeglass fell -out, and he didn't 'tut, tut,' and put it back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We didn't go to sleep for a long time—we were too -miserable and cold—and watched the troopers riding -on each side of us with their blankets over their -shoulders, and every half-mile or so, flaming fires at -the side of the road, with soldiers sitting round them. -We could hear them challenging the carriages in -front, but when we got up to them, they only stared -at us, or called out to the escort, and wrapped their -blankets round them more closely. There was a -huge nigger chap riding on my side of the carriage, -and both he and his wretched thin horse seemed -nearly asleep. I watched him bobbing and lurching -from side to side in his saddle, waking up with a -start whenever his poor brute stumbled, and then -must have gone to sleep, because the next I -remember was finding that we were going past rows -of houses—pitch dark, with not a sound coming from -them—and knew that we'd got down to Los Angelos.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was colder than ever, because the Angel had all -the rug, but the smell of the sea was grand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We drove down to the wharf where we'd landed in -the morning. The carriages all stopped—I could -hardly stand when I got out because my legs were so -cramped—and two of our barges were waiting for us, -their mids. holding up lanterns and singing out to let -us know where they were.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The cavalry escort clattered away, the old Governor -kissed the hands of all the ladies as he helped them -into the boats, the two A.D.C.'s, looking frightfully -sleepy, clicked their heels and bowed, the Captain -said, 'Tut, tut,' a good many times and shook the -Governor by the hand, the Angel and I managed to -get hold of the fat A.D.C. and shake his hand, and -off we all went.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was simply splendid to be in a boat again and -to hear the oars go 'click, click' in the rowlocks, and -when we'd got round the end of the breakwater to see -the lights of the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>. The other -chaps who had gone back before us had taken orders -for the two barges to wait in, all night, if necessary; -that was why we'd found them there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Angel and I were both of us dead tired, and -went down below to turn in, but there was a lot of -scurrying up above; we heard the Gunnery Lieutenant -sent for, and the Captain's Clerk was turned out. -Evidently something exciting was going to happen, -so we ran up on deck again and, peeping down the -ward-room skylight, saw our Captain and the Captain -of the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>, the Commander, and most of our -senior officers all sitting round the table, which was -littered with papers and confidential books.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We stole away, because the officer of the watch -whacked us over the back with his telescope, and were -undressing in the gun-room flat when the bugler -sounded the 'officers' call' and 'both watches fall -in.' We heard 'Clear lower deck' being shouted along the -mess decks and bugles sounding aboard the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>, -so instead of undressing we shifted into uniform, -whilst every one else tumbled out of their hammocks -and shifted into theirs. We all clattered up on deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Everybody aft' was piped, and the men came -streaming through the dark battery door into the -glare of the group light on the quarterdeck, buttoning -up the tops of their trousers and stuffing their flannels -down them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The master-at-arms reported 'Lower deck cleared, -sir,' to the Commander, he reported to the Captain, -and the Captain, standing on the top of the after 9.2 -inch turret, coughed, said 'tut, tut,' a good many -times, and then told the men that Billums had been -collared because he was so much like his brother, -who'd mixed himself up in politics, that the -President was going to keep him till Gerald -surrendered, and that all the foreign Ministers were -agreed that steps had to be taken jolly quickly to get -him out of San Sebastian.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The men were as quiet as lambs, waiting for the -exciting part and to know what he intended doing. -You couldn't hear a sound. 'I want you to clear -for action—now—do it quickly—I'm going to take -the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> inside the breakwater at daylight, whilst -Captain Roger Hill'—he called him 'Old Spats,' but -corrected himself—'gets under way in the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> -and prepares to tackle the forts. They've got -some—you've seen them—up on the hill above the -town—but won't give us much trouble. If Mr. Wilson is -not at the landing-stage at noon, the foreign Ministers -will be, and they and all the Europeans who wish will -come aboard this ship. That being the case, I shall -then—acting under the Ministers' orders—take -possession of the five Santa Cruz cruisers and gunboats -inside and shall tow them out.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You could feel the men getting excited, and then -he gave several more 'tut, tuts,' and told us that a -revolution had started, and that, as the revolutionary -people came from both the provinces to the north and -south, and the mountains separated them and made -it impossible for them to combine successfully by -land, the only way they could do so was by the sea, -and as long as the President had his cruisers and -gunboats he could prevent them doing so, and keep -the upper hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'If we capture his ships, the insurgents can do -what they like,' and he finished up with, 'There are -ladies aboard—we couldn't leave them in Santa -Cruz—so work quietly. Carry on, Commander!' We -dug out like smoke, turning the boats in and filling -them with water, getting down davits and rails, -lashing the rigging, and working hard till daylight came.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then all us mids. scrambled down below to get -some hot cocoa and bread and butter, and were up on -deck again in a jiffy, for the buglers sounded 'cable -officers,' which meant that we were just going to -weigh anchor, and we didn't want to miss any of the fun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>, cleared for action, just astern of us, -was looking awfully grim, her long guns simply -bristling over the sides, and white ensigns lashed in -her rigging.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Petty Officer O'Leary came up to ask about Billums—he -was very worried about him—and, just as we -began to steam ahead, a cloud of smoke shot out -from one of the forts above the town.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They're going to fight,' I sang out, not quite -certain that I wasn't frightened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But O'Leary growled, and said, 'No such luck, sir, -anyway, that's only the sunrise gun—late as usu'l, sir.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'General quarters' was sounded—we could hear -it too aboard the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>—and we all had to rush -to our stations. Mine was in the starboard for'ard -9.2 turret, and you may bet your life that directly we'd -cleared it away, and had things ready inside, I got -my head jammed outside the sighting hood to see -what was going on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We headed straight inshore, and then made a -wide sweep round the lighthouse and the end of -the breakwater.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As we turned, the white forts about the town came -into view, and we tried to get our gun to bear on -them, but though we gave it extreme elevation, -cocking it up in the air, we couldn't elevate it nearly -enough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Bigge, the lieutenant in charge of my turret, -was very angry about it, but of course nothing could -be done. That was why the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> was steaming -backwards and forwards, far enough outside the -breakwater for her guns to bear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As we crept up to the town, I kept my telescope -glued on the forts, but couldn't see any sign of life -in them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They aren't going to fight, sir, are they?' I asked -Mr. Bigge, and he didn't think they were, which was -very disappointing—one doesn't mind being fired at -when one is inside a turret.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the port side—the breakwater side—we were -now right alongside the Santa Cruz Navy—miserable -dirty little ships when you saw them close to us. -Their people were awake and on deck, but hardly -bothered to look at us, and were fishing over the -side, smoking cigarettes, and spitting in the water, -some of them washing clothes and hanging them up -in the rigging. They did hoist their colours—the -vertical green and yellow stripes—after a time, but -that was the only thing they did. Not very exciting, -after all we had been hoping for, was it?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just before we got up to the end of the breakwater -we'd dropped a kedge anchor made fast to our -biggest wire hawser, and as we went along we paid -the hawser out astern. Then when we'd got just -beyond the landing-stage we dropped an anchor, and -there we were in a pretty close billet, not enough -room to turn, but our kedge ready to haul us out -stern first, and everything as snug as a tin of -sardines. We were not a hundred yards from the -wharves where that guard of honour had been -yesterday, but only a few people and some mules -were moving sleepily about, and a lonely-looking -sentry leant against a great pile of cocoa bales and -yawned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, we'd taken them by surprise right enough, -and there was nothing to do but to wait till noon -and see what happened. It was a jolly long wait, -and I don't really know whether I wanted most to -see Billums come off, or to capture the cruisers if -he didn't. I know that all the other chaps didn't -want him to come off. Outside the breakwater the -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> still steamed backwards and forwards, -with her guns trained on the forts in case anything -happened, and during the forenoon got down her -top-masts and wireless gear. This made her look all the -more ferocious, and our Commander began bellowing -and cursing 'that he'd have to do the same and spoil -all his paint-work.' It took us a couple of hours, but -it was much better than doing nothing, and later on -in the morning crowds of people came down on the -wharves to look at us, and watch us working. My -eye! but it was appallingly hot in there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At about ten o'clock the forts began to show signs -of life, hoisting yellow and green flags and training -their guns round and round. They had two dynamite -guns in one of them—so the books said—and we -felt as though they couldn't possibly miss us if -they had fired. That sounded far too exciting—dynamite -seemed rather unpleasant—-but the Gunnery -Lieutenant's 'Doggy' brought the news that none of -the guns in the fort could be depressed enough to hit -us, which was rather a relief—really—though the -others didn't think so. The cruisers, too, began to -get up steam, let down their gun ports, and ran their -guns out. We could see them being loaded, and -then they were trained on us, which was very -exciting when you remember that they were only fifty -yards away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Directly they had the cheek to do this our port -guns were trained on them—the foremost 9.2 on one, -the port for'ard 9.2 on another, two of the 7.5's on a -third, and so on, with orders to fire directly the Santa -Cruz ships fired.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course these poor little things wouldn't have -stood a chance, but they kept their crews at their -guns, and if they'd only been able to let off one -broadside it would have swept our decks. This made it -jolly interesting for all of us who were getting down -the topmasts and had to work in the open.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had never thought about how Billums or the -Ministers were coming off, and when at seven bells -the first and second barges were called away, you can -imagine how excited I was, because the second barge -was mine. They lowered us into the water, planked -a Maxim gun in the bows, revolvers and cutlasses -were served out to the crew, and I had my dirk and -revolver.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Commander bellowed down that we were to -go inshore, lie off the steps at the landing-place, and -wait for Billums or the Ministers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was in white uniform with a white helmet, and -it was so boilingly hot that, though the men only -had on straw hats, flannels, and duck trousers, they -sweated under their cutlass belts before they'd pulled -half-way inshore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As we got close to the wharf it was more exciting -still, because the people crowding there and the -soldiers began shouting and jeering at us, shaking -sticks and throwing stones—not to hit us, but to -splash us. They weren't brave enough to do any -more, because they could see all the starboard -twelve-pounders on board the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> trained on them. I -felt jolly important, and when Blotchy Smith—the -midshipman of the first barge and a pal of mine—sang -out for me to 'lay on my oars,' we bobbed up -and down only about ten yards away and pretended -we didn't see them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We waited and waited; eight bells struck aboard -the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>, there wasn't a sign of any one coming, and -the black ruffians on the wharf became more irritating -than ever. Several lumps of mud and dirt had been -thrown into the boats, and one had struck my clean -helmet, but I still pretended not to notice anything. -It got so bad soon that Blotchy Smith sang out to -me to train my Maxim on the crowd, and you would -have laughed if you'd seen the brutes clearing away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> signalled across that carriages -could be seen coming down the road from Santa Cruz, -and after another long wait we heard the mob ashore -groaning and hooting, and a lot of cavalry and -several carriages came clattering and rattling along -the wooden wharves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You can guess how we wondered whether it was -Billums coming or only the Ministers. It wasn't -Billums, for we saw all the foreign Ministers, and -knew that they would not have come with him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some soldiers made a way for them, and then we -had to pull backwards and forwards, taking them -and a lot of Europeans—Mr. Macdonald among them—off -to the ship, and afterwards go back for their -luggage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, we'll have a bit of a "dust up" after this, -sir,' my coxswain said, and that was about the only -comfort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Angel told me afterwards that when the -Ministers got on board their wives came up and made -asses of them, they were so jolly pleased to see them, -but they'd all been sent below by the time my boat had -been hoisted in. Then we had to collar the cruisers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, even that was disappointing, because they -never made any resistance, the officers simply -shrugged their shoulders when we hauled their -colours down and hoisted our own white ensigns, -and ordered their men to pull ashore. You couldn't -really blame them, because our 9.2 shells would have -blown them to smithereens; but, for all that, it was -very tame.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By half-past one we'd got hawsers aboard their -flagship, the </span><em class="italics">Presidente Canilla</em><span>, and by three o'clock -hawsers had been passed from her to the others, and -we simply went astern, hauling on our kedge anchor -till we were clear of the breakwater, and then steamed -astern with the whole of the Santa Cruz Navy coming -along after us like a lot of toy ships on the end of a -string. It looked perfectly silly, and the last one—a -gunboat as big as a decent Gosport ferry-boat—fouled -the end of the breakwater till our chaps -aboard of her shoved her off, and along she came -after the rest of them. By five o'clock we and the -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> had anchored, and all the prizes as well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a jolly tame ending to all the excitement, -and we all wondered what we should do next to make -them give up Billums. The A.P. said that we -should probably land and take possession of the -Custom House.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He bucked us up a good deal, but not even that -came off, because before we finished making -everything shipshape for the night, out puffed the port -launch, flying a huge white flag in her bows and the -yellow and green ensign in the stern, bringing out -our friend the Governor and his two A.D.C.'s. They -came along to make complete apologies, and say that -Billums should be given up next morning. He -brought a letter from the President simply grovelling -to the various Ministers and imploring them and the -merchants to come ashore again. Wasn't that grand, -although, you know, we couldn't help feeling that -we'd been rather playing the bully?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When it got dark, the Angel, and I, and Mr. Bostock, -the Gunner, with half-a-dozen hands, were -sent aboard one of the ships, the </span><em class="italics">Salvador</em><span>, an old -torpedo-gunboat kind of affair, to keep watch through -the night. We had revolvers served out to us in -case any chaps from shore tried to play the idiot; -but they didn't, and we simply sat down under an -awning with our coat-collars turned up, and took it -in turns to keep watch, or, if we were all awake, got -Mr. Bostock to tell us tales of Ladysmith.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the morning we all went back to the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>, and -at five minutes past ten o'clock old Billums came -along in the port launch, the Governor bringing him -off and making more apologies. Billums </span><em class="italics">was</em><span> glad to -get back again—he wanted a shave and a clean collar -most awfully—and you can guess how jolly glad -we were to have him. The Commander bellowed -at him that he'd make him pay for all the paint-work -which had been spoilt by clearing for action, but it -was only his way—he couldn't help it—and the -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> gun-room sent a signal, 'Sub to ditto. -We are all jolly glad to get you back,' which was -nice of him, though his beasts of mids. didn't join in -with the signal—just like them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, the Ministers and the merchants went ashore -jolly pleased with themselves, but they left all the -ladies on board, as they thought it wiser for them to -go to Prince Rupert's Island with us till things had -quieted down in Santa Cruz.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We gave Billums a rousing good sing-song, till -the Commander ordered us to chuck it, and was -appallingly rude to him; and next morning we left -the Santa Cruz Navy for its own people to take back -behind the breakwater, and shoved off for Prince -Rupert's Island.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You should have seen the Angel looking after the -Minister's two daughters! It was too asinine for -words, and I told him so. He said I was jealous, and -we jolly nearly came to punching each other's heads -about them.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="gerald-wilson-captures-san-fernando"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER V</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">Gerald Wilson captures San Fernando</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Written by Sub-Lieutenant William Wilson</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Those thirty-six hours in San Sebastian are over and -done with, and I shouldn't care to go through them -again. They were the longest hours I have ever -spent, and they, at any rate, taught me what it does -feel like to be a prisoner, and to look through an iron -gateway and envy everything outside it, and -everybody. The other chaps—</span><em class="italics">insurrectos</em><span> they all -were—had been jolly decent to me, although I could not -understand their lingo, and the way they settled down -and took things as a matter of course was simply -extraordinary. Even when two more were dragged -out the morning I was released, and shot against -that parapet, the others only shrugged their shoulders -and simply smoked cigarettes all the harder. You -could only imagine that they were but half-civilized, -had known no other way of carrying on the politics -of the Republic, and were so used to violence and -murder that, when their turn came to go 'under,'they -simply bowed to the inevitable, their only consolation -being that probably in another few weeks or months, -if luck favoured their party, that same stuffy room -would be crowded with President's men, and quite -possibly the same villainous-looking firing-party would -just as cheerfully prop them up against that wall and -shoot them down. These same miserable-looking -convicts, whom I'd seen with chains round their ankles, -would almost certainly be there to dig fresh graves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course, all those hours I wondered what our -chaps were doing to bail me out, but didn't worry -much—I knew things would come right in the -end—and of course they did.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But I did worry about Gerald and what his -hare-brained adventures would lead him to. He had -always been getting into trouble at home, and that was -why the pater and mater had shipped him out to -Santa Cruz, though they little thought that he'd take -a leading part in a revolution, and the poor old mater -would be fearfully worried when she heard about it. -It was jolly to know that an Englishman, and my own -brother, was such a boss among these fierce, -blood-thirsty, half-Spanish people, but that wouldn't be -much comfort to the mater if he was stuck up against -the parapet of San Sebastian, which would certainly -be his fate if he ever fell into the clutches of the -President.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was my chum of the cigarette case who actually -fetched me down and took me aboard the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>. -Even whilst I was trying to thank him, the -Commander began bellowing that 'He'd make me pay for -the paint he'd spoilt clearing for action and housing -the topmasts.' He was as rude as it was possible to -be, but every one else—'Old Tin Eye' included—was -all right, and Ginger signalled congratulations from -the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course my adventure was known all over -Princes' Town before we'd anchored more than an -hour or two, and reporters from the local papers and -Reuter's Agent came bustling on board for more -details, but were told nothing, except that I'd been -arrested by mistake, and that, as a hint to the President -to let me out again, 'chop, chop,' one or two of the -Santa Cruz gunboats had been seized. We had all -been ordered to give no political information to -anybody, but you may imagine that their ears were rigged -out for something more exciting than that, and you -can jolly well guess who gave it to them—the Angel -backed up by Cousin Bob. They saw their way to -getting a cheap 'blow out' at the Savannah Hotel, -and actually had the cheek to tell the two local -reporters that if they'd stand them a dinner there, -they would tell them all they knew about it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had put their names down in the leave book -for the late boat and went ashore, but of course I had -no idea what their game was. I had turned in early, -and they woke me, by knocking at my cabin and -asking if they could come in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I switched on my light, and there they were, in -their best blue suits, grinning from ear to ear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They both began talking twenty to the dozen. -'We've given you such a "leg up"—we've had a -topping feed at the Savannah, and you'll see all -about it in the papers to-morrow!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'All what?' I asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'All about you fighting dozens of soldiers, -knocking them over, and of our trying to rescue you.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We put in a lot of extras to make it look better,' -Bob squeaked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We told them all about knocking over the rotten -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> mids., and about you being so like Cousin -Gerald.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What!' I sang out, sitting up in my bunk. -'You blessed idiots, what rot have you been up to? -You know you had orders not to speak of it.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We didn't say a word about politics, not a word,' -Bob said rather nervously. 'It's quite all right; we -never mentioned politics.' The Angel added, 'We -didn't tell them the real way you escaped.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Out with it! What did you tell them, you fools?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were backing out of the cabin—rather sulky—but -I yelled for them to come back. 'Now, none -of your tomfoolery. What did you tell them?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, we gave ourselves a bit of a leg up too,' -the Angel began, looking down his nose as good as -gold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It really was all a joke,' Bob interrupted, 'it was -their fault if they believed it. We told them that we -waited till night under the walls of San Sebastian, -wriggled over the parapet, and found your dungeon.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We told them that we'd whistled "Rule, Britannia!"—very -softly—till—we—heard—you—whistle back,' -the Angel stuttered out, choking with laughter, 'and -that the sentry was asleep, and we only had to knock -him down—and gag him—steal the key—open the -door—all of us crawling away again over the walls -and tramping it on our flat feet down to Los Angelos.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You don't mean to tell me that they believed all -that rot?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We think they did—wasn't it a joke?' Bob said—he -was beginning to see that I didn't think it a -joke. 'We gave them the key of the dungeon—an -old brass key we'd found on the armourer's bench -before we went ashore.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It was the key of the bread-room that was broken -yesterday,' the Angel gurgled, when he could stop -laughing. 'And we said we'd all swum off to the -ship in the dark.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I wasn't in the humour to see how it was funny, -and sent them out of it. 'If anything does come out -in the papers, I'll beat you both,' I told them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, the feed was worth a hiding, and the joke -too,' Bob mumbled, as they went away—thank -goodness the Angel was no relation of mine and had no -mother or sister who could write snorters to me, so -he didn't dare to be rude.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You can guess how angry I was next morning, -when the wretched local papers did come aboard, and -saw in big letters: 'Romantic Escape of British Naval -Officer—Plucky Middies effect Rescue,' and underneath -it was the silliest nonsense you could possibly -read. Honestly, even now I don't know whether it -was put in as a joke, and whether, instead of Bob and -the Angel pulling the reporters' legs, they were pulling -ours. Angry! I was too angry to speak!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They described me as Sub-Lieutenant William -Wilson, the celebrated United Service half-back, -and the brilliant naval officer, specially appointed -to command the </span><em class="italics">Hector's</em><span> gun-room by the Lords of -the Admiralty as a mark of their appreciation of my -services! Angry! My blessed potatoes! I sent for -my dear cousin and the Angel and gave them six of -the best over the gun-room table—as hard as I could -lay it on—the first three for making their Sub look -a fool, and the last three for disobeying the Captain's -orders. I know which were the hardest whacks, and -I didn't care a biscuit what Bob's sister, Daisy, thought -or wrote. They went away muttering that the dinner -was worth it—every time—which was meant to be -rude, because they both had got it into their noddles -that they'd actually given me a 'leg up,' and couldn't -see that they'd only made a laughing-stock of me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>First of all the Commander sent for me on the -quarterdeck. He had Perkins there as a witness, -and before I ever had a chance of saying anything, -bellowed out, 'You're the "brilliant naval officer," -are you? You're a fool, and an idiot, and a useless -idiot. You can't keep order in the gun-room, and the -sooner you get out of the ship the better.' He bellowed -till the maintopmen, painting masts and yards up aloft, -left off painting to listen to him. He didn't ask me -to speak, so I didn't—said not a word—which made -him almost apoplectic with rage, his ugly red face -getting perfectly crimson. Every time he stopped -for breath, Perkins kept on trying to tell him that -perhaps it wasn't my fault, which sprung him off -again, and at last he turned round and cursed him -for interfering.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perkins twisted round on his heel and hobbled off, -but the Commander called for him to come back, and -he did, his jolly face all tightened out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Did you hear the Commander curse me on the -quarterdeck?' he asked very quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I did, sir,' I said; and he turned to the Commander, -'Very well, I shall see the Captain about it. I'm -not going to stand any more of it.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You should have seen the Commander's face. His -mouth opened, and he looked as if he would willingly -have murdered the two of us, then he bounced off -the quarterdeck, and into his cabin just inside the -battery, and banged the door, like the childish -bully he was. As he didn't come out again, I went -below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the Skipper sent for me. He was grinning -all over his face: 'Those two boys have made a fool -of you, Wilson; tut! tut! stop their leave—whack -'em both.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I've beaten them, sir, already,' I told him, 'and -given them six apiece—as hard as I could,' and -explained to him that I had no idea why they went -ashore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Tut! tut! no harm done; they got their dinner -all right; tell 'em to lunch with me, tut! tut!—if -they can sit down—I'd have done it myself for a -good dinner—thirty years ago.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old Ginger and I had arranged to go for a walk -together that afternoon, to shake up our livers, and -I was not particularly keen, after what had happened, -to ask leave from the Commander, but I screwed up -my courage and did so, and was flattened aback -when he said, 'Very good, Wilson. Come and -have "chow" with me in the ward-room -to-night—celebrate your release.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was the rotten, or rather the irritating, part -about him. After he'd been as rude as a fishwife, and -long before you'd got over bubbling with anger at -the sight of him, he'd come up as if nothing had -happened and take the wind out of your sails.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course I had to say 'Yes,' although at the -time I'd have much preferred to take him on with -bare knuckles and punch his head to relieve my -feelings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old Ginger met me at the Governor's steps, where -we landed, and we had a fifteen-mile walk as hard as -we could go—tearing along till we hadn't a dry rag -between us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fifteen miles in that climate takes more out of you -than twice the distance in England, so you can guess -we were pretty well 'done' by the time we got back to -the landing-steps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whilst we waited for our boats we sat under the -shade of the fruit market and watched the niggers—all -as cheerful as sand-boys—unloading a cargo -of cocoa-pods from a small schooner. The washer-ladies -were coming ashore, too, from the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> and -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>, cackling like hens because of the huge -bundles of clothes they'd got. Perkins's friend, -Arabella de Montmorency, was the first to waddle -up the steps, grinning from ear to ear, and carrying -a huge bundle. 'The good Lo'd be praised,' she -sang out to a buck-nigger waiting for her, 'Massa -Perkins pay Arabella the three shilling and -tuppence—Massa Perkins know Arabella good vash-lady—no -black trash for Massa Perkins. I pray de good -Lo'd keep Massa Perkins in His strong hand.' She -went back into the boat for more washing, but -the other washer-ladies had bagged it, and there -was a fine row. All their men friends joined in -shouting, and yelling, and shaking their fists at -each other, and we hoped to see a good free-fight, -but the Sikh policeman on duty stepped majestically -forward, said a few sharp words, and they all burst -out laughing, Arabella waddling away with her man -carrying the disputed bundle, and trying to look -dignified, telling everybody: 'Arabella no black -trash—Arabella vash for de British naval officah.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was too funny for words, Ginger and I were -simply doubled up with laughter, when I felt some one -touch my shoulder, and, looking round, saw a thick-set -native chap, as brown as leather—like those soldier -chaps we'd seen on the wharf at Los Angelos—in a -blue striped cotton vest, which showed his lumpy chest -muscles through it, and a pair of loose cotton drawers, -his brown legs and feet naked. He was bowing and -holding a broad Spanish grass hat in front of him -with one hand. 'William Wilson,' he kept on -saying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What is it, old cock? me William Wilson—all -light—belong ploper. What's your game?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His face beamed, and he pulled a dirty crumpled -letter from under his vest and handed it to me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was addressed to me in Gerald's handwriting, -and I tore it open, his face beaming again as he -pointed a thin brown finger first to the address, and -then circled it round my face, saying, 'William -Wilson.' It was the only English he seemed to -know. I read:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'DEAR OLD BILLUMS—Sorry to have cleared out so -hurriedly the other day—just managed to give them -the slip in time—heard news of your adventure and -the Navy business—wish you chaps would collar the -lot of them, for good. Keep a look-out for that little -chap who was shadowing me; he'll try and get even -with one of us. Tell the mater I'm having a ripping -time—better than planting—will pay better than -planting if our side wins. Tell her those socks she -made me are A1. Look out for yourself—you're too -much like me for this corner of the world. Don't -send an answer.—GERALD.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The nigger was still beaming and bowing, and -he pointed to my hair. I'm jiggered if he hadn't -spotted me by it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was a funny go, if you like, and I was jolly -glad to know that Gerald was all right. It didn't -worry me a ha'penny candle about that detective -chap—I'd be only too jolly glad to see his ugly face -and smash it. Ginger and I thought that the little -messenger must have come in one of the many -trading-schooners which slipped across from the -mainland at night when the land breeze sprung up. -We gave him all the small change we had in our -pockets, and he smiled, and bowed, and disappeared -among the merry crowd round us. He couldn't -speak a word of English except my name, and my -Chinese pidgin-English wasn't a success.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was the only excitement and the only news -I got from Gerald for several weeks. In the -meantime the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> and the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> carried out -the gunnery practices which had been interrupted at -Gibraltar, returning to anchor off Princes' Town every -Thursday night till Monday morning, so we managed -to get in a good many football matches. Ginger and -I borrowed grounds and had some more gun-room -matches as well, but they didn't smooth things over, -rather the reverse, for when we beat the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> -at rugby by a try, which, they swore, wasn't one, -matters went from bad to worse. There actually was -some doubt about it, for Perkins had been referee -(we couldn't get any one else) and couldn't keep up -with the ball on account of his game leg. We had to -separate the two teams in the pavilion, and after that -my mids. seldom came back to the ship from a tennis -party, picnic, or dance, or anything in fact, without -having some furious tale to spin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old Ginger and I pretty nearly washed our hands -of them and let them go their own way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no regular news from Santa Cruz all -this time, because the President had closed the -Telegraph Company's office, but the Pickford and -Black steamers still called at Los Angelos twice a -month before coming to Princes' Town, and they -brought news of what was going on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As it chiefly came from Santa Cruz, it was from the -President's point of view, and if it was at all correct, -most of de Costa's people were already in San -Sebastian or flying in front of the President's -invincible troops.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Our fat friend, Mr. Macdonald, appeared at the -Princes' Town Club one day when I happened to -be there, and he, too, gave me anything but cheering -news. Nearly every week, he told me, the guns of -San Sebastian fired a salute in honour of another -victory over the </span><em class="italics">insurrectos</em><span>. 'They're not showing -fight anywhere; the President's troops are scouring -the provinces and driving them from place to place, -whilst his cruisers and gunboats scour the coast and -prevent any arms or ammunition being smuggled -ashore.' This made me jolly nervous about Gerald, -and very miserable too, for he also had told me that -Gerald's rubber plantation had been entirely destroyed -in revenge for his taking up arms. It may have -served him right, but it was beastly hard luck on the -pater, who had bought the place for him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course we seemed to be in the thick of everything, -because Prince Rupert's Island was only fifty-two -miles from the nearest point on the coast of Santa -Cruz, and, as it was the centre of all the foreign trade -of the Republic, the revolution, which was going on -there, was practically the only thing talked about. -By listening to the English merchants and officials -talking at the Club we got to know quite a lot about -the military position and the chances of the two -parties.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You see the Republic of Santa Cruz stretches for -almost a hundred and fifty miles along the eastern -shore of South America, and is made up of three big -provinces.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Starting from the south, there was the province -of Leon, with its vast swamps, forests of mahogany, -and other valuable trees, and its rubber and cocoa -plantations. It was on the northern border of this -province that Gerald had his plantation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The capital and centre of its trade was San -Fernando, situated at the top of a narrow inlet of the -sea called La Laguna. Most of this trade was in the -hands of Europeans, and the town itself was held -for the President by a General Moros with about a -thousand troops. From what we heard, he didn't -worry much about anything, except to loot the Custom -House occasionally or take bribes from the merchants -and captains of trading-ships. The President always -had a 'down' on this province, and hindered its trade -as much as he could without stopping it altogether; -and, after his old General had had a 'picking' at San -Fernando, every ship had to stop at the narrow mouth -of La Laguna and pay more dollars. The President -had a pretty modern fort there—El Castellar—to -make them heave to if they forgot to stop, and -directly the revolution started he had given orders -that no ships whatever were to be allowed to pass, -so you can pretty well imagine how the English -merchants cursed. Then northward of the province -of Leon came the towering mountain ranges and -plateaus of Santa Cruz, arid, and scorched, and dusty, -rising almost precipitously from the forests of Leon, -and falling again in terrific ridges and chasms into -the northern province of San Juan, the eastern slopes -falling into the sea as we had seen at Los Angelos. -The mineral wealth—copper, gold, and silver—of the -Republic was in these mountains, and they absolutely -cut off the southern province of Leon from any -communication with the northern province of San Juan. -There were mountain paths and dangerous -mule-tracks, but what I mean is that no armies could -possibly assist each other across them, and old Canilla -could sit up in Santa Cruz, at the top of his -mountain, and jolly well choose his own time to -crush any rising in the provinces spread out at his -feet, and, so long as his Navy was loyal, could prevent -any insurgents from one province getting to the other -by sea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, there was one thing 'up against' the -President. The province of San Juan bred all the -cattle and live-stock of the Republic, and he was -obliged to keep a big army down in the northern -plains to guard them. Once the insurgents got the -upper hand in San Juan he would have to depend -entirely on importing cattle from the neighbouring -Republics or from Prince Rupert's Island—not so -much to feed his troops, but Santa Cruz itself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now you will have a rough idea how the land -lay, and can understand that, so long as his Navy -was loyal to him and prevented the two insurgent -provinces on either side of him from combining, the -President would be cock of the walk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was the opinion of nearly every one in -Princes' Town, and, though they all favoured the -insurgents and wanted them to win, they'd shake -their heads and say that old Gerald's chances were -pretty bad.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then came news, from Santa Cruz, that there'd -been a great battle fifty miles or so to the north'ard of -San Fernando, and that de Costa's insurgent troops -had been defeated with great slaughter. There was -a rumour going through the Club that Gerald had -been killed, but I couldn't find how it had started.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Don't you worry. All my eye!' my chum 'in -the know' said; 'de Costa isn't such a fool as to try -a pitched battle yet. Wait for another six months. -The President is only trying to bluff the people who -are finding the money to keep his end up.' Then -he told me something more about that big armoured -cruiser </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had an idea that de Costa's people were trying -to get hold of her. 'If they do,' he said, 'she can -simply wipe the floor with all Canilla's rotten old -tubs, and his game will be finished in a couple of -months.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I couldn't help worrying about Gerald and the -mater—when she heard the news—for she thought he -was still tapping his rubber trees. It may have been -because of that, but I played abominably against the -Prince Rupert's Island team that afternoon. It was -fearfully hot, the sweat seemed to make my eyes all -hazy; my fingers were all thumbs, I fumbled my -passes, and if I did gather them properly, could think -of nothing except to get rid of the ball quickly, -without passing forward. I was playing centre -three-quarters, so messed up the whole of our attack and -we lost badly. The Angel at 'half kept looking at -me with a puzzled face, wondering what was wrong, -and all our chaps were shouting themselves hoarse, -'Buck up, Wilson,' but nothing would go right, -and directly after the match I trudged down to the -Governor's steps by myself, to smoke a pipe and wait -for our boat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You know what it feels like to have lost the game -for your side; so I wanted to be alone, slung my -heavy sweater over my back, with the arms tied -round my neck, put on my coat over it, and sat down -where old Ginger and I had sat that time before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I smoked and watched a crowd of niggers hustling -round me unloading a lighter which had come ashore -from one of Pickford and Black's steamers lying off -in the harbour—she had come in from Los Angelos -that morning—and had just taken off my straw hat to -light another match inside it, when I heard a naked -footstep behind me, a fierce kind of a grunting hiss, -and something struck my shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was on my feet and had turned in a second, and -there was that little brute who had been shadowing -Gerald, and had nabbed me up at Santa Cruz. He -had a long knife in his hand, and I knew him at once, -although he was dressed as a coolie, by the scar on -his forehead—the one my pipe had made.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had hold of his wrist in a jiffy, but it was all oily. -He wriggled himself free, I made another grab at him, -but he was like an eel, and bolted through the crowd -of niggers. It was all done so quickly that no one -seemed to have noticed him, and, though I dashed -after him, I lost sight of the little beast. Something -warm began trickling down inside my jersey, and I -gave up following him to see what damage had been -done. The knife had made a gash in the skin over my -left collar-bone, and I was bleeding like a pig. Like -an ass, I must have fainted, for when I woke up my -head was resting in the huge lap of Arabella de -Montmorency, who was pinching up the skin near -the gash; there were crowds of jabbering niggers all -squashing round me; the tall grave Sikh policeman -had his notebook out, and I heard her chattering -away: 'The good Lo'd be praised. He send Arabella -to sab de life of de British naval officah—some black -trash hab done dis—no buckra niggah from Princes' -Town—oh, de pretty yellow hair.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Luckily for me Dr. Clegg and the rest of the -football team came up and rescued me, or the old -'washa-lady' would probably have kissed me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course I was all right directly, and Dr. Clegg -stitched me up when we got aboard, but I was on the -sick list for a week. The knife had cut clean through -the knot in the sleeves of my sweater, and this had -probably saved my life. Strangely enough, when I -got on board, there was a letter waiting for me from -my friend the fat A.D.C., telling me, in very bad -English, that Pedro Mendez—that was the name of -the ugly brute—had been dismissed the police force -for bungling Gerald's arrest, and had left Santa Cruz -burning to be revenged on us both. The letter and -the ex-policeman had probably come across together -in the Pickford and Black steamer which I'd been -watching.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was awfully decent of my A.D.C. chum to have -taken all this trouble to warn me, because it must -have been jolly hard work for him to write a letter in -English.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He signed himself Alfonso Navarro, and I shouldn't -forget his 'tally' in a hurry. It wasn't his fault that -the letter had been a bit late, and it didn't make me -the less grateful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Angel and Bob, pale with excitement, came -rushing into my cabin directly Dr. Clegg had finished -with me, and of course they wanted to see the letter. -Bob wanted the stamps and begged the envelope. -He gave a whoop. 'Look at that, Billums—on the -back—it's in French!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Scrawled in pencil very hurriedly was </span><em class="italics">Votre frère -est blessé seulement dans le bras droit</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Phew! then there had been a battle after all, and -I felt sick all over, because it struck me that my -brother might have been captured, otherwise how -would the A.D.C. know? And if he was captured, -I knew it meant San Sebastian and a firing-party.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was mail day too; I had to write home, and it -was jolly difficult not to tell the mater what I'd heard -about Gerald. I couldn't tell her about the little -brute either—only about my having done so badly at -football.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was lucky I didn't say anything about Gerald, -because three days later—Dr. Clegg still kept me in -my bunk—one of our boats brought off another note -to me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'One of those nigger kind of chaps gave it me, -sir,' the coxswain of the boat said. 'Didn't seem -to talk English—nothing but your name, sir. He -cleared out directly he'd got rid of it.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I thought of Gerald's messenger and thought it -must be from Gerald, though it wasn't in his handwriting. -It was from Gerald, for all that, and I soon -knew why the handwriting was so funny, for he wrote:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'We've had a bit of a scrap—got a bit of a shell in -my right arm. Learning to write with my left—don't -tell the mater. We got a bit of a hiding—my fault—I'm -all serene barring the arm. You'll hear news, -important news soon.—GERALD.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Well, he wasn't a prisoner, which was the great -thing, and I felt jolly cheerful again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Wouldn't it be ripping if we could get some leave -and go over there and chip in?' Bob and the Angel -said, their mouths and eyes wide open.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course that was what we all wanted to do, and -wondered all this time why the English Government -allowed the President to go on stopping our trade. -It was jolly galling to all of us to see the fleet of -local British steamers lying in Princes' Town harbour -doing nothing, simply because the President up at -Santa Cruz wanted to punish the insurgents. The -English merchants were grumbling furiously, and -wanting to know what use the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> -were if they weren't to be used to protect their trade. -Everybody was saying that it was a thousand pities -that more people hadn't followed Gerald's example -and gone in for the revolution 'bald headed.' In -fact, Gerald had become a popular hero, and you can -imagine how proud it made me. But then I got -rather a nasty jar. The Captain sent for me, and I -found him in his cabin with a lot of papers in front of -him. He tut, tutted and hummed and hawed a good -deal, and then burst out with: 'Look here, Wilson, -you'd better give that brother of yours the tip to keep -clear of Princes' Town or an English man-of-war. -I've got orders to arrest him if I can get my hands -on him. Look at this!' and he showed me a big -document beginning,</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'Whereas it has been represented to us by our -Minister resident in Santa Cruz in the Republic of -Santa Cruz that a person, Gerald Wilson—known as -Don Geraldio—being a British Subject, has taken up -arms against the Government of Santa Cruz Republic, -that Government being at present on terms of friendship -with his Britannic Majesty's Government, all -law-abiding subjects of his Britannic Majesty are -hereby warned, on pain of being indicted for felony, -to abstain from affording any assistance to the -aforesaid Gerald Wilson.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>I got very red in the face, and then came to the part,</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'The utmost endeavour is to be made to arrest the -aforesaid Gerald Wilson should he enter British -Territory.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>That was roughly what I read, though I can't -remember now the actual words, but it was so full of -legal phrases that it made me feel cold all over. It -seemed so beastly cold-blooded too, as if he hadn't -already done more actually for old England than all -the rest of us English out here put together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, boy, give him the tip to keep clear—that's -all,' the Skipper said, screwing his eyeglass in and -running his fingers through his long hair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I can't, sir,' I told him. 'I don't know where he -is. He's wounded too, sir.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then I told him about the letters I'd received and -how I'd got them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, well, boy, I can tell you. Tut, tut! Read -that—I got it from our Minister this morning—brought -across in a trading-schooner. You're not to speak of -it till the news comes out.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was simply bubbling with pleasure, and handed -me another paper.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'Received reliable news that General Moros -abandoned San Fernando yesterday—insurgents, -under Don Geraldio, occupied it immediately—Vice-President -de Costa has formed a Provisional Government -there. General Zorilla, Governor of Los -Angelos, left Santa Cruz hurriedly this morning to -take command of President's army in the south.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>That, then, was the important news Gerald had -written to me to expect. I simply felt hot and cold -all over with excitement and the pride of imagining -him, with his yellow hair and his arm in a sling, -head and shoulders above every one else, marching -into San Fernando at the head of his troops; and -to have the fierce old Governor of Los Angelos on -his track—their best fighter—even that was simply -glorious.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Surely, sir, he won't be arrested if the insurgents -win?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Skipper shrugged his shoulders. 'Those are -my orders, whether he's a hundred Generals rolled -into one, or even the President himself, so you'd -better give him the tip.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I went away feeling very proud of Gerald, but very -upset about the other thing. It did seem such jolly -hard lines after he'd risked everything to help the -side that was friendly to Englishmen, and had made -a great name for himself in the country, and made all -these half-civilized people respect all Englishmen -because of him. I was worrying about this in my -cabin, and how I could manage to warn him, when -Ginger came banging at the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Look here, Billums, old chap, I've just come -across from the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>. This has got to stop. -D'you know what has happened now? One of your -chaps in your picket-boat has smashed up our steam -pinnace, rammed her whilst she was trying to get -alongside the Governor's steps—cut her down to the -water—did it on purpose.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had heard about it in the morning; Bob, who -was running the picket-boat, had told me. Her -pinnace had tried to get alongside before our boat, -neither would give way, because the two mids. disliked -each other so much, and there'd been a collision.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It was your boat's fault, Ginger; she cut across -our bows. I've reported it to the Commander.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Be blowed for a yarn. Our Padre was in -the boat and said it was done on purpose—the -whole boat's crew said it was. The mid. tried his -best to get out of the way, and had his engines -full speed astern. It was done on purpose, I tell -you.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It wasn't,' I said, getting angry with Ginger. -'It was your confounded mid. who tried to cut across -our bows, our Engineer Commander was in the boat -and told me so. The picket-boat has had to be -hoisted in with her stem smashed in. D'you mean -to say you don't believe me?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, if it comes to that, d'you mean to say you -don't believe me?' Ginger jerked out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No, I'm hanged if I do! you've got hold of the -wrong end of the stick,' I said hotly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But, my dear chap, the Padre said——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I don't care a hang for your Padre—our Engineer -Commander——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Then you won't take any notice of it?' Ginger -was getting excited now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'None,' I said, 'except to report your mid.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You won't cane your chap?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No, I'm hanged if I will. It was young Bob -Temple, he's too stupid to try and do a thing like -that. Your boat was simply poaching—I'm hanged -if I'll cane him.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ginger's face looked as angry as mine felt, and he -burst out with: 'Thank goodness, I haven't got a -cousin aboard my ship, and ain't in love with his -sister!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, that finished me, and I swung off that if he -thought that was why I didn't cane him he was -welcome to think so for the rest of his blooming -existence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'All right,' he muttered angrily, 'I'll not trouble -to try and patch things up again.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I hope you jolly well won't. If your chaps -want to cut across our bows, tell 'em to look -out—that's all.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You absolutely refuse?' he said very coldly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Absolutely,' I answered, just as icily, holding -the door curtain back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'All right; sorry to have troubled you,' and Ginger -had gone up on deck before I could think of anything -more, and I knew that we'd jolly well parted 'brass -rags' at last—after all the times we'd sworn that we'd -never let the gun-room quarrels make any difference -to us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I wanted to rush off to the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> and make it 'up' -on the spot, but that beastly remark about Bob being -my cousin—and the other thing—simply set me -tingling all over, and I'd see him in Jericho first. If -he thought that every time our midshipmen had a -row, mine were to go to the wall, he was jolly well -mistaken.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was bound to be a row about the damaged -boats, and there was—a regular Court of Inquiry—and -a lot of hard swearing on both sides, the only result -of which was that Ginger and I—we'd been glaring -at each other all the time—got badly snubbed for not -keeping better control over our gun-rooms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, all this, coming directly after the worry about -Gerald, made me feel pretty bad-tempered. I wanted -Ginger to yarn with more than any one, but that was -'finish,' and, as my shoulder wasn't quite all right yet, -I had nothing to do but wander about the ship like a -caged monkey.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every one knew about San Fernando in two or -three days, and by the time my shoulder was all right -and I could go ashore—you bet I kept my eyes -skinned to see that chap who'd knifed me—news -began coming pretty regularly from that town, -brought by small sailing-boats which managed to -get through at night—and most of it was pretty bad -news.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gerald and the insurgents had certainly got -possession of San Fernando, but El Castellar, the -strong fort at the narrow inlet to the bay, was still in -the hands of the President, and still stopped all trade. -Not only that, but, worse still, the Santa Cruz -gun-boats slipped up there and amused themselves by -bombarding the defenceless town. The whole -Insurgent army didn't possess anything even as big -as a field-gun, so the gunboats could fire away in -comfort as long as their ammunition lasted. We -heard that the warehouses and offices along the -sea-front had already been practically destroyed by -shell-fire. As these nearly all belonged to English firms, -whose headquarters were at Princes' Town, the whole -colony was in an uproar; and, much to our joy, our -Skipper was ordered—from home—to take the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> -up to San Fernando and report on the state of affairs. -You can imagine how excited we all were, and -how I looked forward to seeing old Gerald bossing -round in his General's uniform.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That chum of mine ashore—the man who seemed -to be 'in the know'—came up to me in the Club, the -day before we were to sail, and made me introduce -him to the Skipper. 'I want him to take a few things -to San Fernando for me,' he told me. 'I've got some -machinery for one of our estates—it's been lying on -the wharves for the last six weeks, and they can't get -on without it.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I didn't hear what passed between them, but knew -that the Skipper was in such high spirits that he'd -have done anything for anybody just then. And so -it turned out, for that evening a lighter came alongside, -and I had the job of hoisting in four large crates -of hydraulic machinery, some boxes of shafting, and -dozens of smaller crates. The Commander was -furious, but the Skipper had said 'yes,' and although -his jolly face fell when he saw how 'chock-a-block' -the battery deck was, with all these packing-cases, -he wouldn't go back on his word.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After we'd finished I was getting a bit of supper -in the gun-room when O'Leary came knocking at the -door and wanting to speak to me. He wouldn't come -in. 'Beg pardon, sir, but I wants to 'ave a word -with you, private like.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What is it?' I asked, taking him into my cabin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He carefully pulled the curtain across, and then -said in a half-whisper, 'We let down one of they small -crates rayther 'eavy like, sir, and started one of the -boards, sir.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That doesn't matter,' I said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Eh, but it do, sir! I banged 'im in again, but not -afore I'd seen inside it—a hammunition box—sir—the -same as what we've got for our twelve-pounder.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My aunt! that made me all jumpy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Are you quite certain?' I gasped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'As certain as I'm astanding 'ere, sir. That ain't -no bloomin' 'ydraulic machinery—they boxes marked -"shafting" be guns, sir, that's what they be.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hundreds of things rushed through my head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Did any one else see it?' I asked, and was jolly -glad when he shook his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'N'ary a one, sir; I covered 'em up too quick; -and I ain't going to tell no one neither, sir, for I -'ears your brother is takin' a leadin' part in this 'ere -revolution, and maybe he'll be wantin' a goodish deal -o' 'ydraulic machinery before he's through with it. -That's why I tells you, sir. I couldn't keep it all to -myself—in my chest—without tellin' some one.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My brain was so hot that I couldn't think properly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Don't mention it to a soul; I'll think over it,' I -told him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No, that I won't, sir; good-night, sir;' and -O'Leary left me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, if he was correct, and it was ever found out, -the Skipper would get in an awful row; if any one -found out that I knew about it, it would mean the -'chuck' for me, and if I told what I knew, and it -turned out to be true, old Gerald wouldn't get his guns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You can pretty easily guess what I did—kept as -mum as a mummy—and how I gloated over all that -jumble of boxes and packing-cases and the long boxes -marked 'shafting for hydraulic machinery' when I -walked through the battery next morning on my way -to the bridge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As we passed under the stern of the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> I -saw Ginger on watch, and I was just going to wave -to him when I remembered that we'd parted 'brass -rags' and didn't. I wished to goodness that we -hadn't quarrelled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All that watch, as we drew nearer and nearer to the -mainland, I kept on thinking of these crates and boxes, -frightened lest any one else should have any suspicion -about them, and couldn't help remembering the words -in that document which the Skipper had shown me, -'All law-abiding subjects of his Britannic Majesty are -hereby warned to abstain from affording assistance -to the aforesaid Gerald Wilson, on pain of being -indicted for felony.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Felony' has a jolly nasty sound about it. And -there was another thing. Suppose Gerald came off -to the ship when we anchored at San Fernando. -Well, they couldn't arrest him unless he actually -came aboard, and I determined to stay on deck all -the time, and warn him off before he could get alongside. -I'd tell all the watch-keeping lieutenants, and -the 'Forlorn Hope' and the 'Shadow' too, for they -kept watch in harbour.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-hector-goes-to-san-fernando"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The </span><em class="bold italics large">Hector</em><span class="bold large"> goes to San Fernando</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Written by Captain Grattan, R.N., H.M.S. 'Hector'</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>As the English merchants in Prince Rupert's Island -were kicking up no end of a fuss about the stoppage -of their trade with Santa Cruz, I received orders from -home to take my ship to San Fernando and report -on the state of affairs there; so one morning I left -old 'Spats' comfortably anchored off Princes' Town -and toddled across. Young Wilson—my Sub-Lieutenant—has -told you about that fort at the entrance -to La Laguna, the fort which had been firing on our -merchant steamers and stopping all trade to San -Fernando, at the head of the bay, fifteen miles farther -on, and as we steamed towards the gap in the high -cliffs which marked the entrance, all of us on the -bridge were anxious to know whether the insurgents -had managed to capture it yet. We could see the little -white lighthouse on the port side, the rambling white -walls of the fort itself, perched high in the air, on the -starboard side, and presently the yeoman of signals -reported that a small cruiser, lying close inshore, -was flying the Government colours—you could tell -them because the stripes were vertical—so we guessed -that it still remained in the President's hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The heat, however, was so great that the glare -from the water and the mirage from the baking rocks -made it difficult to see anything distinctly, and it was -not till we drew nearer that we made out a large -yellow and green flag, hanging limply down over -the fort itself. That settled the question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In another quarter of an hour we were passing -through the entrance, when—well, I couldn't believe -it myself, and I saw it, so can hardly expect you to -believe it—the miserable sons of Ham in that fort had -the colossal cheek to fire a shot across my bows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Accident, my dear boy!' I told Wilson, who was -officer of the watch; 'of course it was an accident; -but I'm blowed if, before we'd got a cable length past -the entrance, a second shot didn't come along and -make as neat a furrow across my fo'c'stle deck-planks -as you'd see anywhere. It scattered the stokers and -bandsmen basking under the awning, and I quite -enjoyed their little obstacle-race into the shelter of -the battery.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'My dear boy, they don't mean it; but just put -your helm hard a-port and go full speed astern -starboard—if you please. Give 'em back a 9.2 common,[#] -please, Commander; they've only fired by accident, -but accidents are bound to happen sometimes in the -best-regulated ships.' Round we swung on our -heels—we just had room—and I dropped my eyeglass -to laugh more easily, because that little cruiser—one -of those piffling little things I'd towed out of Los -Angelos six weeks ago—had hauled down her flag, -and was scurrying off as fast as she could go. The -poor idiots who'd had their little accident in the fort -thought, I suppose, that we were running away, so -didn't ease off again, and by the time Montague, my -Gunnery Lieutenant, had reported the for'ard 9.2 -cleared away, and the fo'c'stle awning had been -furled, we'd turned and were coming back past the fort. -'Have your accident, Montague—as soon as you -like; but I'll only give you one, so don't miss.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] 'Common' = common shell, -A thin-walled shell with a heavy bursting charge.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>His accident was quite a success, and when the -smoke of the bursting shell had cleared away, there -was a hole in the walls through which even my -coxswain could have steered the galley without -breaking an oar, and that yellow and green monstrosity -was being hauled down with a run.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Angry! Rather not! I can't afford to get angry; -it's bad for my gout; I'd had my accident, and -proceeded on my way quite ready to apologise for my -gross carelessness directly they apologised for theirs. -I suppose I should have had to be angry if that shell, -or whatever it was, had killed any of my people—except -my coxswain, and then I should have blessed -them, for he was the most exasperating idiot I'd ever -known.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An hour later we came up to San Fernando—a -miserable deserted-looking collection of dingy white -walls and warehouses, fizzling in the awful heat, -and, 'pon my word, there was another dirty little -cruiser there at anchor, with the yellow and green -ensign flying, calmly potting at the town—firing a -gun every other minute. We could not see what -damage she was actually doing, but the white walls -along the sea-front were riddled with holes, and that -was good enough for me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Front row of the stalls, old chap,' I told my -navigator, and though he'd have walked about on -his head, or shaved it, if he thought it would please -me, he hadn't a sense of humour, and looked puzzled. -'As close to her as you can,' I explained, 'between -her and the town;' and there we dropped anchor, -and awaited the next item on the programme. It -was jolly lucky for her that she didn't have any -</span><em class="italics">accidents</em><span>. We hadn't been comfortably anchored -for more than five minutes before dozens of black -and green flags were hoisted over the town, people -began to venture out into the front street, and I had -hardly gone below, when one of the signalmen came -running down. 'A boat's pulling this way, sir, -from shore, sir, with a black and green flag flying.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My coxswain—I called him the 'Comfort' because -he was such a nuisance to me—pulled my cap out of -my hands and gave it me, seized my telescope from -under my arm, rubbed the bright part up and down -his sleeve, and handed it back, gave me two -right-hand kid-gloves from the table, and I was ready to -receive anybody, the Insurgent Provisional Government, -or the Queen of Sheba, on my quarterdeck. -A clumsy white boat, with a huge ensign, came -wobbling off, very careful to keep us between her and -the little cruiser. The crew were rowing atrociously, -each man pulling the time that suited him best, and -it occurred to me that perhaps the Provisional -Government might possibly accept the services of -the Comfort for their official barge. Then they were -near enough for me to see that there was a white man -there, among several dark-skinned people, under the -stern awning—a white man with yellow hair and his -right arm in a sling, my Sub's brother, as sure as life. -I looked round and saw Wilson himself, the colour -of a sheet, trying to attract the boat's attention, and -looking piteously at me, 'Here! Hi! give me a -megaphone—some one!' I sung out. A dozen -people fell over one another to get one, and I shouted -through it, 'Lay on your oars,' and when my Sub's -brother had made them stop, I sang out, 'Is that -Gerald Wilson aboard?'</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 78%" id="figure-121"> -<span id="is-that-gerald-wilson-aboard"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""IS THAT GERALD WILSON ABOARD?"" src="images/img-140.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"IS THAT GERALD WILSON ABOARD?"</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Yes,' he shouted, putting his head out from -under the awning. 'Then, for goodness' sake, don't -come aboard my ship, or I'll have to arrest you. I've -got your warrant on board. You can come alongside, -but don't leave your boat.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Thank you,' he shouted; and it amused me to -see my Sub's face. I believe that he was even grateful -enough to stop the mids. doing physical drill early -in the morning over my head on the quarterdeck. -The Provisional Government—for that it actually -was—did manage to get alongside, and the first man -to tramp up the ladder was the Vice-President—de -Costa himself. I recognised him at once from having -seen him in the cathedral at Santa Cruz. Poor -chap, he had on a black frock-coat and beautifully -brushed tall black hat—in that awful heat too. No -wonder, if it was necessary, as head of the Provisional -Government, to wear it, that he looked ten years older -than when I saw him last.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His face looked more yellow and flabby, and his -black eyes more shifty than ever. He bowed, and I -bowed, and then he waved his secretary at me—a -little chap in another frock-coat and silk hat who -followed him. The little chap's patent-leather boots -were giving him trouble, and he came along the -quarterdeck on his toes, like a cat walking along -a wall covered with broken glass. Fortunately he -could speak a little English, and whilst his boss was -mopping his forehead, he said, 'Presidente de Costa -thank you for coming,' almost breaking himself in -half, he bowed so low. Four or five more chaps -came along, every one of them with an enormous -black and green rosette in his coat. These were -soldiers—two of them niggers—and very mild-looking -soldiers they were, just the sort you'd imagine would -hang about at headquarters, and get soft jobs where -there weren't many bullets flying round. However, -I was wrong in thinking so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They spent half an hour on board, explaining that -the Dictator's flag (Canilla's) flew nowhere throughout -the province of Leon, except over El Castellar—the -fort which had had the accident two hours -before—and of course swore that they were now strong -enough to march on Santa Cruz itself, and intended -to do so very shortly. The upshot was that they -demanded official recognition from the Foreign -Powers. That was the whole matter; they wanted -recognition so that they could buy warlike supplies -from abroad openly, for of course at the present -time no Foreign Power would allow its subjects to -assist them. 'We have this policy foreign, we -encourage the merchants, and we permit all trade -very much of the foreign peoples, and very much -the </span><em class="italics">Inglesas</em><span> also. Always they shall be first now -that the noble </span><em class="italics">Inglese</em><span> ship of war visit San Fernando—the -first ship to come,' the little secretary told me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked so diminutive and so important, and -was evidently in such discomfort with his boots and -his tight frock-coat, that I had to screw my eyeglass -into my eye till it pained—I wanted to laugh so -much.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not a word did they say about the little cruiser -which was lying close by, waiting for a chance to -pot them on their way ashore, or about the shell-marks -on every wall. Not much, for that would have -drawn attention to the perfectly obvious fact that -they could do nothing till they had command of -the sea, and also to the fact that they were absolutely -without any artillery. A couple of well-fought -six-pounder guns, if they'd had them, would have been -quite sufficient to drive off the wretched little -cruiser-gunboat kind of affair. Poor chaps! you couldn't -help seeing that they were terribly in earnest, but I -couldn't possibly give them any hopes of their -Provisional Government being recognised, the most I -could do was to forward their demand by 'wireless' to -the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> at Princes' Town for her to cable home. -I saw them over the side, and interrupted the brothers -Wilson yarning at the bottom of the gangway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ask your brother if he'll show me round the -place if I come ashore for a toddle,' I sang out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Certainly, sir; he'll be only too pleased,' my Sub -answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'If he dyed his hair I might ask your brother to -dine with me to-night,' I told him, as we watched -them slowly splashing ashore; 'I shouldn't recognise -him with his hair dyed—not officially.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Botheration take it! I'd never said anything -about that wretched hydraulic machinery I'd been -bullied into bringing across. Still, you can't talk to -Provisional Governments about packing-cases, can -you? However, my Sub relieved my mind on this point.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I told Gerald that we had a lot of things for a -firm here, sir,' he informed me. 'He's going to -tell them.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Good lad! Good boy!' I said, and went below. -The commander of the cruiser wasn't showing any -signs of calling on me, in fact he was beginning to -raise steam, so I got ready for my toddle ashore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Yes, please; usual leave to officers,' I told the -Commander, who hammered at my door (he always -was noisy, thought it made him breezy—it didn't), -and sent the Comfort with my compliments to -Dr. Watson, my Fleet Surgeon, and would he come -ashore with me for a walk. He was so lazy that he -wouldn't be able to walk far, and would therefore -act as a check on my Sub's brother if he wanted to -rush me over the country. I had thought of taking -my Sub himself, but he couldn't come, had to get -out that hydraulic machinery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Comfort and five loafing sons of sea-cooks, -whom the Commander had given me as my galley's -crew, pulled us ashore, and a miserable-looking place -it was, a long sloping beach covered with rubbish -and stinking seaweed, dead dogs here and there, and -live ones, not much more healthy-looking, prowling -about in search of food.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We ran alongside a crumbling wooden jetty, and -Wilson was waiting for us, dressed in white duck -riding gear, smart brown gaiters, and with a smart -white polo helmet on his head. His arm in the sling -gave just the wounded-hero appearance to complete the -picture. He had a carriage waiting for us, but before -we got in he pointed out a very weather-beaten pillar -of granite, about five feet high, standing on the shore. -'Pizarro landed there with thirteen men in 1522 or -thereabouts to conquer this country—thirteen men, -their armour, and ten horses. Just think of it!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This pillar was one of the most sacred things in -the Republic, and there was a white flag flying close -to it, so that the gunboats could give it a wide berth -when they shelled the rest of the town. There were -traces of shell-fire everywhere, but it was astonishing -to see how little actual damage had been done. -'Five men and a little girl killed, and they've fired -over six hundred shell into the town during the last -fortnight,' Wilson told me. There was one two-storey -house close by with at least twenty holes in -the side facing the harbour, and yet it seemed little -the worse—rather improved, from my point of view, -because the holes increased the ventilation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The place was swarming with people, practically -all were men, and nine out of ten of them had rifles -slung round their necks—a ragged unkempt-looking -lot of scaramouches they were, you couldn't call them -soldiers. Most of them had no equipment at all—a -cotton bag to hold cartridges slung with string over -their shoulders, a loose white shirt, and a ragged pair -of cotton drawers, legs and feet bare, and very often -nothing on their heads at all, or, if they had, a -rough-plaited, wide-brimmed grass hat. Their attempts to -salute, as Wilson and we drove along, were -praise-worthy but ludicrous. There were shrill cries of -'</span><em class="italics">Viva los Inglesas!</em><span>' and they would have followed -us if Wilson had not stopped them, but they were -eminently respectful, and the slightest word he spoke -seemed law to them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You're a bit of a nob here,' I said. I wanted to -say 'my boy,' but I'm hanged if I could. He was -two or three sizes too big for me, was Gerald Wilson. -I'm a pretty big boss on board my ship, but I'm -hanged if I was in it compared with him on shore. -I've cultivated the 'for goodness' sake, get out of my -way; don't you see it's me' air pretty successfully, -but he'd got it to perfection, apparently without -knowing it, and when he stopped the carriage, and we got -out, he strode along with the chin-strap of his polo -helmet over his grand square jaw—simply a blooming -emperor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was taking us to the cathedral, on one side of -the usual Plaza you find in all Spanish types of -towns, and as we passed the 'Cuartel de Infanteria,' -two or three hundred so-called troops were hurriedly -forming in front of it. The trumpeter was the only -chap in anything approaching a uniform.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Kicked out of the regulars for blowing so badly,' -Wilson said; and I didn't doubt his word when I -heard him try to sound some kind of a salute.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'My dear chap!' Thank goodness, I stopped -myself in time and didn't say that, but wanted to -ask him if he thought it possible to knock the troops -I had seen in Santa Cruz with these he had here.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was something in his face, 'a keep off the -grass' look, that made me, me a Post-Captain -commanding one of the finest armoured cruisers in the -Royal Navy, take soundings jolly carefully before I -spoke to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He saw what I was thinking, and smiled, 'I'm -licking them into shape gradually. We've only just -begun.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took us into the cathedral, a crumbling old -place with a huge crack across one side—the result of -an earthquake some years ago—and the cool, musty, -religious gloom inside was very comforting after the -dazzle and glare of the sun outside. Two little stars -of light, far away at the end of the chancel, made the -gloom all the more mysterious, and then, as our eyes -became more accustomed, we could make out the -gaudy image of the Holy Virgin, looking down, with -calm patient eyes, on the high altar and its tarnished -gaudy tapestry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the foot of the steps, below the altar-rails, -many women, shrouded in black hoods, were praying -before it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They come here when the gunboats start firing; -the cathedral is spared,' Wilson whispered, as we -tiptoed out into the glare again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Where do the men go?' I asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They carry on with their work,' he answered; and -that came with rather a 'thump' after seeing the men. -Perhaps they were better chaps than they looked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Not one shell in twenty bursts,' he said, as an -afterthought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he took us across the square to the English -Club, the only clean, cool-looking building there, -with a shady creeper-covered verandah all round it, -and long easy wicker-chairs simply inviting rest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I shan't get you away from here, doctor, I fancy,' -I said to the Fleet Surgeon, who was already streaming -with perspiration, and I didn't. He went to sleep -the whole of the afternoon in one of those chairs. -We always chaffed him about the book he said he -was writing: 'Clubs I have slept in.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the reading-room all the dear old English -papers and periodicals, ten weeks old, were neatly -laid on a table, and about a dozen thin, lantern-jawed -Englishmen had come to welcome us. De Costa, -looking nervous and uncomfortable, was there too, -with his secretary (he'd changed his boots). We all -had a green bitters, and I was given the longest cigar, -and the best I'd smoked for many a day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I wanted to do as Watson had already done—stretch -myself on one of those long chairs on the cool -verandah, with my feet up, and stay there till it was -time to go aboard—but I was much too afraid of -Wilson, and drove away again. 'I'll take it out of -my Sub if his brother bullies me too much,' I -chuckled to myself as we bounced along into the -country to see what preparations were being made to -defend San Fernando against the army which fierce -old General Zorilla was leading to attack it. Luckily -the carriage had an awning, but it was horribly hot -all the same.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We got out of the town, passing along shady -lanes, with little palm-hidden villas standing back -in the shadows of olive groves and vineyards, and -gradually clattered up to some high ground, a regular -tree-covered ridge, at the back of San Fernando, from -which we had a grand view of the town at our feet, -the square cathedral tower, the grand sweeping bend -of the head of La Laguna, and, far away to the -left, the faint outline of the rocks which marked its -inlet—El Castellar could not be seen because of the -dazzling haze and mist which hung on the water. -The wretched little cruiser had just weighed, and was -steaming slowly past my ship, covering her with -black oily smoke. I only hoped that the Comfort, -or the officer of the watch, had had the 'savvy' to -shut my stern windows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wilson turned me round to look inland.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sloping gently downwards at our feet was some -open ground, dancing in the heat, and pigs and goats -and some wretched cattle were lazily browsing there. -The road in which we were standing ran down it, a -broad red streak, to a sluggish stream at the bottom, -crossed it by a ford, and gently rose over some more -bare, parched, open ground, and was swallowed in the -dark shade of a forest. Everywhere beyond, look -which way I would, there was nothing but forest, -stretching away in the distance in every direction -till the outlines of the trees were lost in a dim -confusion of mist on the horizon. The town of San -Fernando, but for that bare ground on each side of -the stream which swept round it, was simply built -in a great clearing, and it gave me the impression -that that dark motionless forest was silently awaiting -the opportunity to claim its own again and swallow -it up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That is our first line of defence, and our last,' he -said, sweeping his arm round the horizon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Sometimes, when it is not so hot, you can see -the dim outlines of the mountains of Santa Cruz -away over there,' Wilson said, pointing to the north. -'You see that road—Queen Isabella's road they call -it—it runs straight as a die for fifty miles through -the trees. Three hundred years ago the Spaniards -cut it through the forest, and from here to Santa Cruz -you could travel by coach in five days, but now the -part through the mountains has been destroyed by -earthquakes.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But where are your defences—your trenches?' -I asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We have none,' he said, 'we don't want any. -General Zorilla is marching down that road to attack -us. He is a grand old man' ('I know him: he is,' I -said, beginning to understand), 'and a grand soldier, -but his only way through fifty miles of virgin forest -is along that road. It is a big job, and he knows it. -Six days ago he and his army plunged into it, and -they will never leave it, for my little brown -forest-men, with rifles and </span><em class="italics">machetes</em><span>, hover all round him. -We are drawing him on, the farther he gets -away from Santa Cruz, the greater difficulty he has -to feed his troops—he has four thousand of them -and artillery—and is already short of food, sending -out strong parties to forage, but they find nothing, and -we capture fifty or sixty of his men every day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You see that dark mass over there?' he pointed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I pretended I did see it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'There's a big clearing close there—just twenty-four -miles from here—and his army camped in it last -night. My little chaps gave them a rotten time.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I could not help thinking of those little -brown-skinned, half-naked natives, with their bags of -cartridges and their rusty rifles, gliding from tree to tree, -through the thick undergrowth, and never giving the -regulars a moment's rest, day or night. At night-time -too! I shuddered to think of it, and began to -have a most wholesome respect for those tattered -ragamuffins of his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'How many have you?' I asked him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I don't know,' he said. 'We have something like -five thousand rifles, but whenever there is a spare rifle -there are hundreds to claim it. Here come some who -would be soldiers—that is, riflemen; they are taking -food to the front.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A long train of heavily laden mules came past us, -ambling wearily down towards the stream, each mule -led by a little native. As each passed he doffed his -hat to Wilson, who stopped one of them and made -him show me the </span><em class="italics">machete</em><span> he carried in his -waistband—a long curved knife something like a bill-hook, -only heavier, and not so curved and the blade broad -at the end. I felt the edge; it was very keen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They can cut an arm clean through at a stroke,' -he said; 'these </span><em class="italics">machetes</em><span> are better than rifles—at -night,' and I shuddered again as the little man, with -a grin of pride on his face, ran after his mule. It -wasn't the kind of warfare I'd been brought up to. -We watched them all splashing across the ford, -forcing their mules through it as they tried to stop and -drink. Before the last mule had entered the forest, -the head of another train began to emerge from it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Those aren't mules,' I sang out, as they came -towards us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They're horses,' he said, and walked down -towards them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were thirty or more thin, hungry-looking -beasts, with military saddles and equipment, each led -by a little native, whose eyes sparkled with pleasure -as he saluted Wilson.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That's good news,' he said, after speaking to one -of them; 'we cut off a whole squadron of Zorilla's -cavalry early this morning. These are some of the -horses. Look at the boots the men are wearing!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I hadn't noticed them before, but now I couldn't -help smiling, for the little half-naked men were -shambling along with big cavalry boots on their feet, -the soft leather 'uppers' half-way up to their knees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Quaint little chaps, aren't they? Their whole -ambition is to be proper soldiers. The first thing -they want is a rifle, and the next boots. They'll wear -these now till their feet are so blistered that they can't -walk with or without them.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Surely Zorilla will have to fall back,' I said, as -we drove back to the town.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He shrugged his shoulders. 'My only fear is that -he will break away towards El Castellar. About -sixteen miles along that road there is a forest track -leading there, and he may have to fall back on it; but -he'll have to leave his wagons and his guns if he -does, and his reputation will be lost. He's been -ordered to attack San Fernando, and the fierce old -man will do so, even if he and his two "A.D.C.'s" -are the only ones left.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We rattled past the string of captured horses, and -drove down to the shore where I had landed, calling -at the Club, on the way, to wake the Fleet Surgeon -and bring him along.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two big lighters were aground at the bottom of -the beach, and hundreds of natives were swarming -round them, wading into the water, bringing ashore -the packing-cases of hydraulic machinery, and making -a noise like a lot of bumble-bees as they dragged -them up the sloping foreshore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thank goodness we'd got rid of them at last, for -the Commander had been like a bear with a sore head -ever since those cases had lumbered up his battery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Why the dickens don't they get rid of their rifles -when they're working?' I asked, because most of -them had rifles slung over their backs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wilson smiled, 'That's a regulation I've made. -If a man drops his rifle for any purpose whatsoever, -any man without one may pick it up and becomes -a soldier and a </span><em class="italics">caballero</em><span>—a gentleman—and has a -</span><em class="italics">machete</em><span> man to carry his food for him on the march. -That's why they won't part with them!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was a quaint idea if you like.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My galley was waiting alongside the little -tumble-down jetty, and the Comfort pushed his way through -a crowd of awestruck natives to give me a signal-paper. -'The Commander thought you'd like to see -it, sir—a "wireless" from the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I read, '</span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span>, under command of -Captain Pelayo, left the Tyne yesterday.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I thought it would interest Wilson, so I read it to -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His eyes gleamed. 'What! Captain Pelayo! That's -Captain don Martin de Pelayo—our man—a de Costa -man—he's managed to get hold of her after all,' and -he sang out some gibberish to the natives standing -round. In a moment they had leapt in the air, -shouting and waving their hats, and hugging each -other, bolting away towards the town screaming -shrilly, '</span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente! La Buena Presidente! -Viva Capitaine Pelayo!</em><span>'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had some inkling of what had happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Don Martin was the best captain in the Navy,' -Wilson told me; 'chucked out because he demanded -ammunition for his ships. We sent him to England, -and if that telegram is correct, he has managed to get -hold of the big cruiser. In three months de Costa -should be President of Santa Cruz.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I could not help telling him—not officially, of -course—how glad I was; and as my lazy crew pulled -us aboard, the town seemed to be buzzing like a bee-hive, -the bells in the cathedral ringing joyously, and -green and black flags hanging over every building.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Your brother wants you to ride out to the front -with him to-night,' I told my Sub. 'You can go -when you like.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As usual, the most beautifully cool crisp night -followed the terrible heat of the day, and the town of -San Fernando looked extremely picturesque, a mass of -white roofs and clear-cut shadows, bathed in the light -of a full moon. The road leading up the ridge behind -the town stood out a silvery streak, and the mere -thought of it, plunging into the appalling shadows of -that grim forest beyond, made me shiver as I held -my breath and listened for sounds of the struggle I -knew must still be going on twenty miles away. -Huddled together in some clearing of the forest, or -strung wearily along the road, brave old Zorilla and -his half-fed men were still surrounded by those fierce, -silent, little forest-men with their terrible </span><em class="italics">machetes</em><span>, -their bags of cartridges, and their rusty rifles. I -turned in feeling rather creepy, and hoped that my -Sub wouldn't do anything foolhardy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What he did he will tell you himself.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="general-zorilla-falls-back"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">General Zorilla falls back</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Written by Sub-Lieutenant William Wilson, R.N.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>You may bet that I was glad to see Gerald, and to -know that, although he still kept it in a sling, his -arm was practically well again. I had a long yarn -with him in that boat alongside, and told him my -suspicions about the so-called hydraulic machinery we -had brought across from Princes' Town. He knew -that two 4.7's on field-carriages, four field-guns, and -two pompoms, with plenty of ammunition, had been -waiting there for weeks, so I pretty well guessed that -they weren't very far away now, and implored him to -send lighters off for them as quickly as he could, -before any one else gave the show away. He had to -wait for the Provisional Government, but could not -have wasted a moment after he did land, for hardly -had the Skipper and the Fleet Surgeon gone ashore -than lighters came hurrying off, and I had the job of -hoisting all those packing-cases into them, my heart -in my mouth all the time lest anything should -happen. Careful! Why, I lowered them down as if -they were new-laid eggs or valuable china.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What the Moses d'you mean by taking such a -confounded time?' the Commander bellowed, and -stood by my side yelling down orders to hurry. -Thank goodness, O'Leary was in charge of the -working party, and wouldn't be hurried for any one, -although the Commander kept on shouting that he -was a disgrace to his uniform, and that he'd disrate -him to ordinary seaman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Didn't I feel relieved when the last little lot had -shoved off from the ship and was on its way ashore, -the Santa Cruz cruiser taking no notice whatever. -She didn't seem to suspect anything, got up her -anchor, and steamed down towards El Castellan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When we received that wireless message from the -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>, nobody had the slightest idea that </span><em class="italics">La -Buena Presidente</em><span> had actually been collared by the -insurgents, so you can imagine how happy I felt -when the Skipper came off and told me. He was as -pleased as I was. 'Fine chap, your brother! The -Provisional Government isn't in the running with -him. He's the boss.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He told me, too, that Gerald wanted me to ride out -to the front with him that very night, gave me -forty-eight hours' leave, and, fearfully excited, I dashed -below. Bigge, Montague, Perkins, the Forlorn Hope -and the Shadow, Dr. Clegg—nearly every one, in -fact—came along to have a word with me, whilst I -tumbled into riding breeches, flannel shirt, and -jacket—they would all have given anything to be going -too. The Angel and Bob filled my 'baccy' pouch, -and I stuffed some sandwiches into a haversack; the -Angel lent me his panama hat, and then I jumped -into the skiff, and was just shoving off when O'Leary -came running down the ladder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The petty officers, sir, are going to ask leave -to-morrow, sir. I'm thinking that that 'ere 'ydraulic -machinery kind of wants a little putting together, sir.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What the dickens d'you mean by delaying my -skiff? Shove off in that boat or you can swim -ashore,' the Commander bellowed at me, from the top -of the ladder, as a parting shot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was so happy that I can hardly describe how I felt -when I did get ashore. It was just getting dark, and -the last of those packing-cases was being carried -away by a crowd of men still chanting, '</span><em class="italics">Viva los -Inglesas! Viva La Buena Presidente!</em><span>' and the little -messenger who had brought Gerald's letter to -Princes' Town was waiting for me, with a broad -smile on his face. He was dressed very smartly -as a groom, with a clean white shirt and clean white -duck riding breeches. He had one of Gerald's old -polo helmets on his head and a brilliant red sash -twisted round his waist, but his feet and legs below -the breeches were bare. He looked very proud of -his finery, and guided me quickly to the Club, along -dark narrow streets, and across the square, where -hundreds of natives were lighting camp fires.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gerald was there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Come along, the horses will be round in a minute. -You will do all right,' he said, glancing at my rig-out. -He introduced me to several Englishmen; they all -shook hands; we toasted </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span> and -Captain Pelayo, the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>, 'Old Tin Eye,' and the -King. My head was in a whirl; horses came round; -I sprang on one, half-a-dozen chaps were round me -making my stirrup-leathers comfortable; Gerald was -helped into his saddle (his right arm was still in a -sling); some one sang out from the dark Club -verandah, 'Three cheers for the two Wilsons,' and -off we cantered, the little groom, with his red sash, -on ahead, and half-a-dozen natives clattering behind -us on more horses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My horse was one of Gerald's own—Jim—a grand -little stallion with a mouth as soft as anything, and he -arched his neck, snorted, and danced about like a -kitten. 'I wish you'd given me an English saddle,' -I told Gerald presently, for this one was a huge native -thing with a back to it and a big raised pommel -in front. It was impossible to fall out of it, except -sideways, and you could not do that very easily, -because the stirrups were such a queer shape that -your feet couldn't slip out of them. But every -other second either the back or the front part thumped -against me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Lean well back, Billums, you'll find it all right -then—you'll be glad of it soon—we've got a -twenty-mile ride in front of us.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I did get used to it in time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was absolutely dark now; Jim had stopped -cantering and had fallen into an amble; we got into -some lanes under trees, and fireflies were darting -from side to side ahead of us. It was simply grand, -and I jolly well wished old Ginger was there with -us; he would have enjoyed it immensely. I was so -annoyed, and despised myself so much for having -quarrelled with him, that it really made me miserable -every time I thought of him. At the top of a ridge -we stopped, Gerald wanted to speak to some native -soldiers who silently stole past us in the darkness, and -got me to fill his pipe for him. Off we went again, -the soldiers cheering my brother and the big ship -which was coming to knock the Santa Cruz Navy out -of time; down a hill we clattered, splashed through a -ford, trotted uphill, and then suddenly plunged into -absolute darkness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We're in the forest, Billums,' Gerald sang out; -'old Zorilla's in the middle of it. You'll hear -bullets before the sunrise.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I didn't feel quite so enthusiastic about bullets just -then—it was too gloomy under those trees—and it -was lucky that the horses could see where they were -going, for we ourselves could not.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We kept on meeting long strings of pack mules on -their way back from the front, and some of them were -carrying wounded men. It was jolly disconcerting -at first, because they came upon you so suddenly, and -made so little noise—the men being barefooted and -the mules unshod. On ahead we'd hear our little -messenger-groom sing out something, and then we'd -come right on the long string of dark shadows, the -mules breathing heavily under their creaking packs -as they shuffled past.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gerald told me they were clearing the country of -food, and were taking it all into San Fernando.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'How did you learn all this war business?' I asked -him, after he had told me his plans.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Common sense, Billums, common sense!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no need for me to ask him why he'd left -his rubber plantation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Getting enough excitement?' I asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Not yet,' he said, stopping for me to fill his pipe -again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Do you know,' he said presently, 'that, nearly -three hundred years ago, twenty-two Spanish cavaliers -rode along this road, as we are riding to-night, to -capture Santa Cruz city. San Fernando was a fortified -Spanish settlement then, and a native ruled in Santa -Cruz. He'd collared the Governor's daughter; she'd -been shipwrecked somewhere up the coast whilst on -her way to Spain, and the twenty-two in their -armour—fancy armour in this climate—riding their big -Spanish horses, with a couple of hundred native -bowmen in their quilted cotton armour[#] to help them, -actually sacked the town. They stopped there, too, -and built the fort of San Sebastian.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] In those days the natives wore thick quilted -coats, stuffed with cotton -fibre, as a defence against sword-cuts.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'Did they rescue the girl?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Yes,' Gerald told me. He was full of such -stories—the good news about </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span> had -made him quite talkative—and you can imagine how -the glamour of the past chivalry excited me. I almost -imagined to myself that I was in armour, and should -presently have to put lance in rest and charge through -crowded ranks of archers and swordsmen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At about nine o'clock that night we crossed a small -stream, and stopped at a </span><em class="italics">Posada</em><span>, or wayside inn—very -cheerful it looked under the trees, with a blazing -log-fire gleaming through the open windows. People -came hurrying out to take our horses, and Gerald and -I had a grand feed. They cooked a ripping omelette, -and their home-made bread was grand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Feeling better now?' Gerald asked me, as I -stretched myself and asked for another omelette.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before we had finished, a lot of officers rode up -and came in—all very courteous—and I looked at -them curiously; for they had just come back from the -firing line, and their white cotton or blue-striped -uniforms were covered with mud. When they first -came into the room they all stared at the two of us, -not quite knowing, for a moment, which was which. -One of them, who particularly attracted me, was very -short and fat with bandy legs. He had a broad-brimmed, -soft felt hat on his head, the front turned -up, his face and neck almost hidden by great bushy -black whiskers, and he was so stout that his sword-belt -wouldn't meet, and was fastened with cord. He had -jolly, twinkling eyes, as black as night, and in the -flickering shadows of the wood-fire looked like a -gnome or goblin under that huge hat. He was very -proudly handing round a large revolver for every one -to look at, showing grand white teeth as he smiled, -and shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands. -Gerald handed it to me: 'He captured a cavalry -officer this morning, and bagged this.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The little 'Gnome' drew his stool across and -explained its action. It was a Webley-Foster automatic -revolver, and as I had not seen one before, I was -jolly interested. I liked the little chap very much, -and could just imagine him tackling one of those -beautifully dressed dandies of cavalry officers we had -seen at Santa Cruz.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These officers had come to tell Gerald how everything -was progressing at the front, and they seemed -to be holding a council of war, or rather listening to -what Gerald had to tell them; for my brother was -laying down the law pretty considerably.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last everything was satisfactorily settled, there -was more bowing, and most of them rode off again -into the forest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Everything going on all right,' Gerald told me. -'Come along; hope you aren't getting stiff.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We left the cheerful fire; the innkeeper refused any -money; my brother sang out, 'José! José!'; the little -groom with the red sash brought our horses round, -and, with the 'Gnome' and three or four other officers, -we were just going to mount when a dozen little -</span><em class="italics">machetos</em><span> came up, leading some men. As they got -into the light I saw that these were regular troops, -and had yellow and green rosettes on their hats, tall, -gaunt, hungry-looking chaps they were, and very -much relieved when they saw my brother. He spoke -to them and the excited little chaps guarding them, -and then off we started.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Deserters,' he told me. 'They all have the same -tale; not enough food.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Although 'deserter' has a horrid sound to it, I felt -sorry for them, they looked so miserable, and meeting -them seemed to make Zorilla's army, of which I had -heard so much, much more real. I watched them -being taken away to San Fernando, till they were lost -in the darkness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A full moon had risen whilst we were having our -meal, and where the trees did not meet across the -road there were patches of very comforting light. -However, the moonlight on the road made the -forest on either side of us look blacker and more -forbidding than ever, and when two of the officers -turned into it, by a path their horses seemed to know, -I felt jolly glad I wasn't going with them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We had a bit of a scrap this afternoon, Billums,' -Gerald told me, 'and lost a few people. Old Zorilla -fought his way along to another clearing, but we -captured some more of his cavalry, and he's left a -field-gun behind him. The horses and rifles will be -very useful to us.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'How far off is he now?' I asked excitedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'About eight miles: Zorilla has halted for the -night and our people are all round him again. He -can't move till daylight. He has only advanced four -miles since yesterday; his men are so played out, and -his horses too. I can't understand him. It seems -absolute folly to do what he is trying to do, especially -as his chaps are deserting.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My supper had made me rather sleepy, but -presently, a long way in front of us, I heard the report -of a rifle, and sat up so quickly that I bumped my -back against that wretched saddle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That was a rifle! That's the first I've heard fired -in war,' I cried out, and I felt fearfully excited, -wondering where the bullet had gone. You bet that -my ears were tingling to hear more, but none came -for some time, only the crackling and rustling of -dead branches snapping in the darkness on either -side of us. Then three or four went off, still a long -way ahead, and as each one cracked I could not help -thinking: 'I wonder what that hit.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Without meaning to do so, I dug my heels into -Jim's ribs and made him go faster, but my brother -sang out, 'No hurry, Billums,' and I pulled him back. -I believe the little stallion was getting as excited as I was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Away to the left there were some more shots, and -then suddenly, right in our faces, a red glare shone -through the trees, coming and going so quickly that -I'd only time to say 'Oh!' before it had disappeared, -and almost immediately afterwards there was another -brighter glare and a tearing bursting noise. It -didn't seem a hundred yards ahead of us, and the -little stallion, Jim, began jumping about.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What was that?' I sang out, though I knew -perfectly well that it was a shell, but couldn't help -singing out, my nerves were so jumpy. A scraggy -spluttering volley came back from the trees, and then -all was still again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Zorilla is firing a field-gun down the road,' my -brother said; 'I wonder what good he thinks he is -doing.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I heard a crash and a noise of breaking branches. -'What's that, Gerald?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'My chaps are cutting down trees to haul across -the road,' he answered; 'making a barricade.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That glare—more distinct now, and right in front -of us—showed up again, and a shell came tearing -and crashing through the trees on one side of us, and -we heard a soft 'plump' as it buried itself in the -ground without bursting. There was the crash of -another volley, and then nothing but darkness and -silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Our chaps see them when they fire that gun, and -let "rip" with their rifles,' Gerald told me. His -coolness irritated me, for my nerves were tingling all -over with excitement and the funny feeling inside -me of being under fire for the first time. I rather -wondered whether Ginger would have felt as—well—nervous -if he had been here. I'd never known him -frightened at anything. A little further along a couple -of wagons slowed up in a patch of moonlight at the -side of the road, some ragged little natives hovering -round them. Gerald stopped a moment to speak to -a white-faced officer, and on we went again. 'That's -our only doctor, Billums; we keep him pretty busy.' If -that was the doctor I knew that we must be close -to the firing line, and my heart began thumping -very rapidly. We could only go very slowly now, -because the road was blocked with wagons and mules -jumbled together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Jump off, Billums; keep close to me!' Gerald -sang out cheerily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was jolly glad to be on my feet again, and -followed him, José taking the horses. On each side -of us I heard axes chipping, a tree fell with a crash -quite close to me, and then we got up to the barricade -which they were building across the road. Men were -swarming here, some dragging more trees out of the -forest, others cutting off small branches with their -</span><em class="italics">machetes</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The field-gun is right ahead,' my brother said; -'they'll be firing again in a minute or two.' He'd -hardly spoken before I saw the glare of it, heard the -dull bang, and a shell burst overhead. It lighted us -for a second; I saw hundreds of the little brown chaps -in their white shirts scurrying about among the -trees, and then a regular hail of shrapnel bullets -spattered on the road and against the tree-trunks, -more rifles went off, and bullets sang past. Behind -me a mule screamed, fell on the ground with a thud, -and began kicking. I felt myself wriggling up -against the barricade for shelter, but Gerald sang out -for me, and I followed him round it to the road, in -between it and the gun. I didn't like being there, -in the open, a little bit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Must do it, Billums—we're the only Englishmen -here—must go to the outpost lines—they're a hundred -yards ahead of us—come on,' and he began striding -along the road, very conspicuous in his white clothes, -and, as far as I knew, walking straight towards that -field-gun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I found myself trying to walk </span><em class="italics">behind</em><span> him, but -pulled myself together and walked by his </span><em class="italics">side</em><span>. -'We're at the edge of the clearing now,' he said; -'bear off to the right,' and you may guess how glad -I was to step off the road. We wormed our way in -among the trees, and Gerald had just whispered, -'We're right in the skirmishing line,' when a rifle -went off not two yards from me, and I jumped almost -out of my skin. Rifle firing burst out to right and -left—I could see the little spurts of flame among the -trees—and then a very short way in front and below -hundreds of rifles went off and bullets flew past, -branches and leaves falling down behind me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gerald pulled me round some thick undergrowth -and whispered, 'Look down there.' I peered through -and could see nothing at first, but our people fired -again, and immediately I saw hundreds of little spurts -of fire—a whole line of them. Then that field-gun -fired—the flash seemed almost in my face—and for a -second I saw the glitter of the gun itself and the -dark figures of the men fighting it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The whole of Zorilla's army is there,' Gerald was -saying, when we heard cheering running far into the -woods on each side, down below, and then sweeping -far away—it seemed to be running round a huge -circle. I could hear '</span><em class="italics">Viva La Buena Presidente! -Viva La Buena Presidente!</em><span>'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They've heard the good news; old Zorilla will -pretty well guess what it means. Like a shot, -Billums?' and Gerald sang out to the native crouched -down beside us. He gave me his rifle with a soft -cooing '</span><em class="italics">Buenos, Señor!</em><span>' and I leant it against a -branch and tried to see something to shoot at, my -fingers trembling with excitement. 'Wait till you -see the flashes of their next volley, and try and get -your sights on,' Gerald said, and I knew that he was -smiling. I didn't wait, I thought I saw something, -and fired, the recoil bumping my shoulder because I -hadn't held the rifle closely enough. It seemed to -start every one else firing, and the regulars began -firing volleys; you could see the ring of rifle spurts -below us, thousands of them, and bullets were flying -overhead, pit-patting against the trees, and cutting -off branches and leaves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'"Any one assisting the aforesaid Gerald Wilson -will be——"' Gerald chuckled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Shut up, you ass,' I sang out. The native gave -me another cartridge, and, the field-gun blazing -again, I just had time to get my sights more or less -'on' and fire, which started all our chaps easing -off too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Can't afford to keep you in the firing line,' Gerald -chuckled, and took me back. 'You've made my -people waste about two hundred rounds, and I can't -afford to waste one. Listen to Zorilla's chaps. -You'd imagine they had millions to blaze away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Something's wrong, Billums; I can't make it out. -He usually keeps quite quiet, he's too clever at this -game to throw away a single round. You'd imagine -from that field-gun firing down the road, and from -all those volleys he's firing, that he means to advance -this way.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was talking as coolly as a cucumber; I was -sweating with excitement. 'There's a mule track -through the forest from here to El Castellar, and I -believe he means to break away there. That's why -I came out to-night—to make sure which way he's -going. We'll know soon.' We got back behind the -barricade, and several hundred of the little brown, -whited-coated men began gathering there, gliding -noiselessly out from the trees. The moon was -hidden now, and it was pitch dark, so that I couldn't -see them, except for a moment when the field-gun -fired, but only hear them murmuring to each other -all round me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To know that there were four thousand regulars -standing by to attack us, in the dark, was anything -but comforting, and the bullets whipping past were -not any too comforting either. All this while -Gerald had been talking to some officers, the 'Gnome' -among them, but now they went away, and he came -to me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'This excitement enough?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I should think it was,' I told him—rather too -much if I had told him the truth. I supposed I -should get used to it, but suddenly to find myself in -the middle of a fight, in a forest, in the dark, was just -a little bit too trying, especially when not a soul, -except Gerald, could understand a word I said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just then I heard a lot of firing much farther away -on our front, and some messengers came dashing up, -singing out, '</span><em class="italics">Yuesencia</em><span>![#] </span><em class="italics">Don Geraldio</em><span>!'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] 'Yuesencia' is a contraction for 'excellencia.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'It's just as I thought, Billums; that firing at us -was all a bluff. Zorilla has broken through our chaps -on the right and is marching along the track to El -Castellan.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Somebody brought a lantern, and he began -scribbling orders, tearing the pages out of a note -book and handing them to messengers, who ran off. -He was doing it quite calmly, and was actually -smiling. Some officers sitting on the ground, with -their swords over their knees, looked absolutely -played out, but they roused themselves when Gerald -spoke to them, got on their feet, and took their natives -into the forest again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'If these messengers do their work in time,' -he said, 'Zorilla will never get through to El Castellan. -I've turned on the </span><em class="italics">machetos</em><span>. We'll go round there -and see how things are going.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I shuddered to think of these little chaps, with -their awful-looking </span><em class="italics">machetes</em><span>, gliding among the -trees all round them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had just sent for our horses, when another -bare-footed messenger came panting into the light and -was led up to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Something glittered in his hand; he held it out to -Gerald, and what do you think it was? My cigarette -case!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's mine,' I sang out; 'I changed cases with -Navarro, Zorilla's fat little A.D.C., when he was -decent to me in San Sebastian.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, he's a prisoner now and badly wounded,' -Gerald said, after he'd spoken to the man. 'He's -sent it to me hoping I shall recognise it and do -something for him. He was in command of a -foraging party we cut off this morning, and is lying -with the rest of the wounded in some hut about two -miles away—so this man says.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, it was up to me to do something for him, -and I told Gerald so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Right you are,' Gerald nodded. 'This chap will -show you the way. You'll be as safe as a house with -your yellow head of hair. Do what you like. He's -badly wounded, I fancy. Get back here by daylight, -and if you don't find me, make your way into San -Fernando.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I looked at my watch by the lantern light. It was -ten minutes to one, and there would be another -two hours and a half before daylight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In five minutes I was on my horse, the man who'd -brought my cigarette case was leading him, and we -had plunged into the forest to the left of the road, -Gerald going away to the right, after Zorilla. How -the little chap found his way I don't know, but he -did somehow or other, cutting through the brushwood -with his </span><em class="italics">machete</em><span>, and jabbering to me in -Spanish all the time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The bush and the fallen trees were so treacherous -that, after Jim had stumbled badly once or twice, and -was trembling with fright, I got off and helped to -lead him too, and wished I'd left him behind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now I had a job of my own to do, I didn't mind -the beastly darkness, and gradually gave up -jumping with funk whenever some natives glided past, -speaking softly to my little chap, and then hurrying -away to the right. I'd hear, '</span><em class="italics">Yuesencia!</em><span>' -'</span><em class="italics">Hermano!</em><span>' '</span><em class="italics">Don Geraldio!</em><span>' and they'd disappear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The field-gun had stopped firing, but rifle firing -was continuous, and seemed to be travelling away -towards El Castellan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once we met quite a large party, with an officer, -all hurrying after Zorilla, and he would not let us -pass till he'd struck a match and seen my face. That -was enough for him, and he passed on, full of -apologies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This made me think, more than ever, what a -'boss' old Gerald was, and what a 'boss' I was, -too, simply because I had the same coloured hair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Somehow or other, after barking my shins and -elbows a dozen times, we got to a small clearing, -where there was a kind of a hut and a jolly welcome -light burning in it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some one shouted, '</span><em class="italics">Quien Vive!</em><span>' my guide -answered, '</span><em class="italics">Paisano! La Buena Presidente!</em><span>' and a -score of natives thronged round us, bowing, taking -my horse, and saying, '</span><em class="italics">Buenas</em><span>,'[#] </span><em class="italics">Yuesencia!</em><span>' I went -into the hut, and found about fifteen men lying on -the ground or propped up against the wall—cavalry -men all of them—and I spotted my little friend, -although he'd grown a scraggy beard.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Short for 'buenas noches!' = good-evening.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>He was as white as a sheet, and seemed rather 'off -his head.' '</span><em class="italics">El Medico</em><span>,' he sang out, as I went -in—all of them sang out, '</span><em class="italics">El Medico</em><span>,' holding out their -hands to make me notice them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'William Wilson,' I said, and held out the -cigarette case he'd sent me, but he only looked at it -vacantly, muttered, '</span><em class="italics">El Medico!</em><span>' again, and his chin -dropped on his chest I thought he was dying, and -was in a terrible stew. I couldn't see any wound -about him, and felt his arms; they were all right, and -I felt his legs. Ugh! then I knew, for half-way -above his left knee the bone was sticking through -a rent in his breeches and they were sticky with -blood. He groaned when I touched it, muttering, -'</span><em class="italics">El Medico</em><span>'—'</span><em class="italics">San Fernando!</em><span>' '</span><em class="italics">Ag-ua! Agua!</em><span>'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One of the </span><em class="italics">machetos</em><span> brought him some water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I scratched my head, I didn't know what to do, -and he went on rambling, '</span><em class="italics">Zorilla</em><span>,' '</span><em class="italics">El Castellar</em><span>,' -'</span><em class="italics">William Wilson</em><span>,' '</span><em class="italics">Don Geraldio</em><span>'—'</span><em class="italics">El Medico</em><span>'—'</span><em class="italics">San -Fernando</em><span>.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'All right, old chap, I'll get you to San Fernando if -I can,' I said to myself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, I knew enough about 'first aid' to lash the -two legs firmly together, and somehow managed -to make the natives understand that I wanted -a stretcher. They made a rough litter out of -branches in next to no time. I found a blanket tied -to the saddle of a dead horse outside the hut, and -covered the litter with it, and then I told off four of -the most sturdy of the </span><em class="italics">machete</em><span> men to carry him. -They obeyed me like lambs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I hated to have to leave these other wounded men -there—they cried piteously when they saw me going—but -there were not enough natives to carry them, so -I could not help it. I would try and get Gerald to -send for them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Phew! it was bad enough for me, but poor little -Navarro, in his stretcher, had a most awful time as we -stumbled back through the forest—he was shrieking -with agony,—and when we struck the old Spanish -road again, after a most fearful time struggling -among trees and brushwood, he was quite delirious. -You can imagine how thankful I was to feel it under -my feet, and, leaving him on his litter by the roadside, -and tying my horse to a tree, I tramped down towards -the barricade.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was just getting light enough for me to see -some empty deserted wagons standing at the roadside -and the fallen tree-trunks dragged across it, but there -was not a single living man there, only one or two -dead men hanging across the barricade, with their -</span><em class="italics">machetes</em><span> still in their hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had not heard the field-gun firing for at least -an hour, the rifle firing had died away almost as -long ago, and it was quite plain that every one had -followed Zorilla towards El Castellar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I climbed round the barricade and walked rather -nervously down towards where the field-gun had -been, and stopped because the weirdest sounds were -coming up from below.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="zorilla-loses-his-guns"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">Zorilla loses his Guns</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Written by Sub-Lieutenant William Wilson, R.N.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>As I stood there, rather nervous and uncertain what -to do, listening to the queer noises which were -coming up from the clearing, where Zorilla's army -had camped the night before, I heard the sound of -naked feet, and stepped back among the dark trees. -There was just sufficient grey light for me to see the -road, and, as I watched it, two natives, breathing very -heavily, hurried past me. They were weighed down -with all sort of things; one had a saddle over his -head and a huge cavalry sword under his arm, and -the other had covered himself from head to foot with -a blue cavalry cloak.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I guessed now what those noises were, and felt -certain that Gerald's people were busy in the clearing -looting the camp. I don't quite know why I went -down there, but I did, and it was a most extraordinary -sight in the uncertain light. First I came to that -field-gun which had fired at us, its wheels and small -shields white with bullet-marks. An empty -ammunition limber was standing behind it, and the -naked bodies of two dead men lay close by, mixed -up with some dead mules. I stepped across them, -and came upon a lot of regulars sitting at each side -of the road, quite a couple of hundred of them, with -their hands tied behind their backs. Poor wretches, -they looked as if they expected death at any moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hundreds of natives were swarming round some -wagons, hauling boxes out, forcing them open with their -</span><em class="italics">machetes</em><span> and scattering the contents on the ground; -and a dozen of them were fighting over a case of -brandy, breaking the necks off the bottles, and cutting -their faces and hands in their struggles to drink some -of the stuff. Nobody was taking the slightest notice -of two field-guns, with their limbers and mule teams, -which were standing in the road a few yards further -down. The little half-drunken brutes were simply -looting as hard as they could, not even troubling to -pick up the rifles which lay about in hundreds. I felt -sure that Gerald had sent them to take the guns into -San Fernando, and, jolly angry, strode down between -the two rows of prisoners, who, seeing me, thought -I was Gerald, and began singing out a whining -'</span><em class="italics">Don Geraldio! Don Geraldio!</em><span>' I saw by their -uniforms that they belonged to the same regiment -as those fellows who had collared me in Santa Cruz, -and that didn't make me love them any more, but -their mistaking me for Gerald gave me an idea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Close by, an officer lay drunk as a fiddler, another -had broken the neck of a champagne bottle, and was -trying to swallow the stuff before it bubbled all away. -I seized him by the neck, knocked the bottle out of -his hand, and shook him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned round, looked at me, and fell on his -knees in absolute terror. I jerked him to his feet, -singing out, 'San Fernando!' sweeping my arm -round the camp, pointing to the guns, and then along -the road towards the barricade.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'San Fernando!' I roared. He had a revolver -in his belt, I pulled it out—it was unloaded, but that -did not matter—and ran up to the wagons, kicking -and cuffing the miserable wretches. They shrieked -out, '</span><em class="italics">Don Geraldio!</em><span>' and bolted, but two of -them.—rather drunk they were—came for me with their -</span><em class="italics">machetes</em><span>, and didn't stop when I pointed the revolver -at them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a jolly awkward moment, but I gave the first -a blow on the point of his jaw, which knocked him -flying, and before the second could get at me, there -were shouts of '</span><em class="italics">Yuesencia! Yuesencia!</em><span>' and the -officer from whom I had taken the champagne bottle -cut him down, clean from the top of his skull to his -mouth. He did it with a </span><em class="italics">machete</em><span>. More officers—half -fuddled—came running up, and whether they -thought I was Gerald or not, they were in a hopeless -fright, and began to lay about them with the flat of -their swords, and soon got their natives into order, -although I saw a good many of them stealing away -among the trees, laden with spoil.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 78%" id="figure-122"> -<span id="i-gave-the-first-a-blow-on-the-point-of-his-jaw"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""I GAVE THE FIRST A BLOW ON THE POINT OF HIS JAW"" src="images/img-180.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"I GAVE THE FIRST A BLOW ON THE POINT OF HIS JAW"</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ugh! the brutes had evidently killed all the -wounded. It was a perfectly sickening sight. I was -beside myself with rage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then just as some mules were being hitched to -that first field-gun, I saw a native trying to lead away -a big black horse. The poor beast was limping -badly every step he took, and the man was beating -him cruelly. I rushed across, and the man saw me -coming, and ran off. The horse had a very elaborate -head-stall and blue saddle-cloth, and I felt certain -that I had seen him somewhere before. 'Poor old -fellow,' I said, stroking his nose. He was simply -sweating with pain, and seemed to know I was a friend. I -rubbed my hand down his legs, and looked at his -feet, and soon found what the mischief was. One of -his rear shoes was half off, and a projecting nail had -made a gash in his frog, so no wonder the poor old -chap was in such pain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I found a bayonet and managed to lever the shoe -off altogether, and then led him up to the field-gun. -He came along as gently as a lamb, still limping a -bit, but I do believe he was grateful, and as I led -him between the lines of prisoners, one of them got -quite excited, struggling to his knees, then to his -feet, singing out, '</span><em class="italics">Yuesencia! El General! General -Zorilla! Caballo del General Zorilla.</em><span>'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ah! now I knew. He was the very horse on -which Bob, the 'Angel,' and I had seen Zorilla ride -across the square at Santa Cruz. He seemed to -know the prisoner, so I thought he might have been -his groom, and undid the cord round his arms. -Directly they were free, he threw them round the -horse's neck and loved him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'</span><em class="italics">San Fernando!</em><span>' I said, pointing up the road, and -he nodded, '</span><em class="italics">Bueno, Señor! Bueno, Yuesencia!</em><span>' -and was as pleased as Punch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The officers had, meanwhile, found enough mules -for all three guns, and I sent them rumbling and -rattling up towards the barricade, which the natives -were already hauling away. You may bet your life -I was jolly glad to see them make a start, for I knew -that they were worth all the world to Gerald, and -there was always the chance of some of Zorilla's -regulars turning up and recapturing them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were not mules enough for all the wagons—I -felt perfectly certain that the natives had simply -bolted into the forest with a lot of them—but there -were sufficient for four, and I chose two, full of -field-gun ammunition, and sent them up the road, and -then we set about and collected all the rifles -lying on the ground, and as many boxes of -rifle ammunition as we could stow on another two, -and I felt jolly pleased with myself when all four -were jolting on their way to San Fernando. I made -the officers understand that the prisoners' arms were -to be untied, but it wasn't till I began cutting the -cords adrift myself that they, rather sullenly, -ordered their men to release the others. You can -just imagine how gratefully they looked at me, and -I felt certain that they wouldn't be such fools as to -try and escape, with five hundred fierce little </span><em class="italics">machetos</em><span> -all round them, and thousands more in the forest. -It was quite light by the time every one was under -way, and I began to feel most horribly hungry and -tired. Up above in the clear sky a number of -vultures were slowly circling round and round with -their long necks stretching downwards, waiting till -we went away before they came down for their -horrible feast, and as I left the clearing, and looked -back, I saw any number of the little brown men -sneaking out of the woods again to carry on looting, -but I couldn't be bothered with them, and they would -keep those vultures away. I had rescued all that was -most valuable, and wanted to get back to San -Fernando as quickly as possible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When we got up to where poor little Navarro was -lying, by the roadside, I gave him some brandy from -a bottle I'd stowed away in a wagon; it did him a -power of good, and he now seemed quite sensible, -looking very miserable when he saw the guns coming along.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The horse of </span><em class="italics">El General</em><span>,' he said sadly, as the -black horse limped past with the groom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I put him on top of one of the wagons, but the -jolting was so painful that he had to be carried on -the litter again. He knew me all right now, and I -gave him back my cigarette case, pulling his own -out of my pocket to show him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'San Sebastian,' he said, smiling; 'I remember -always.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, off we went, the three guns and the four -wagons on ahead, the two hundred prisoners, -surrounded by the little </span><em class="italics">machetos</em><span>, marching behind -them, and Navarro, on his litter, the groom with -Zorilla's black horse, and myself, on my little stallion, -'Jim,' bringing up the rear. I'd found some -ammunition for that revolver, and had loaded it, but -my face and yellowish hair was all that was wanted -to make any one obey me, and I rode along on my -tired little horse, absolutely bossing the show.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You may laugh if you like, but there I was in -charge of the whole blooming crowd, feeling simply -dead tired, but kept awake by the excitement of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Any one assisting the aforesaid Gerald Wilson——' -kept running through my head, and I grinned -every time I thought of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At about ten or half-past we came to that wayside -inn where Gerald and I had had those omelettes last -night. It was most appallingly hot, and, though -there was no food there, I determined to halt for an -hour to rest the mules and men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The prisoners lay down at the sides of the roads, -under the shade, the little </span><em class="italics">machetos</em><span> curled up under -the trees, and went to sleep in a twinkling, the officers -went into the inn, and Navarro's stretcher was laid -down outside it, in the shade of the projecting roof. -I could hardly keep my eyes open, and dare not even -sit down for fear of falling asleep, because I wasn't -going to trust those officers again. They didn't look -in the least pleased (of course by this time they knew -that I wasn't Gerald), and a good many of their men -had a sullen look on their faces, which I didn't like -a little bit. Still, so long as I kept my eye on them -I wasn't afraid of them playing the fool, and I spent -that hour walking up and down the line of guns and -wagons with their dejected mule teams, passing a -word or two occasionally with Navarro, who was -much brighter now, sitting up on his litter smoking -a cigarette.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I thanked him for the letter which he had written -to me from Santa Cruz, warning me about that -ex-police agent. 'Very bad man—he will never -cease from revenge—next time you see him kill -him,' he said; and I rather wish that I hadn't -mentioned it, because I hated thinking of the little brute. -Of course he was as anxious to get to San Fernando -as I was; he wanted to see a doctor as soon as -possible, and have his broken leg looked after.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the end of the hour I tried to push on again, but -I'm hanged if I could. I walked up to the inn and -sang out, 'San Fernando!' to the officers sitting inside -it, with half-empty bottles of wine in front of them, but -they shook their heads and didn't even stand up. -This, I knew well enough, was meant to be rude. -Only the chap who had killed the native as he was -going for me, the one whom I had prevented -drinking that champagne, stood up and came out, shaking -his head, and jabbering Spanish. '</span><em class="italics">Mucho caliente! -Mucho caliente!</em><span>'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He say no go San Fernando till night,' Navarro -explained. 'Too hot.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, as I've told you before, I've got a beastly -bad temper: I wasn't going to stand any nonsense, -and I was inside that place in a twinkling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'San Fernando!' I shouted, pointed to the blazing -white road, where the mules were lying panting in -the glare.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They only smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I pulled my revolver out and roared again, but -they only pulled theirs out and shook their heads.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I knew that I was up against something 'tough,' -and I don't know what would have happened if I -hadn't heard my name called.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Navarro was beckoning to me, and I went out, the -officers laughing, and only that one following me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Prisoners obey me—give them rifles—I want -El Medico—San Fernando—quick,' and he pointed -to where the regulars were all lying asleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I knew well enough what he meant, and was in -such a towering rage that I'd have taken any risk. -I held out my hand, he held out his, and we shook.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Right you are, old chap, I'll trust them.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He jabbered to the officer who had followed me, -and then said, 'Take me to prisoners,' so we picked -up the litter and carried him to where they were, the -other officers laughing, and not even getting up from -their benches to see what was going to happen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he introduced the officer to me. 'Don Pedro -de Castilio—Señor William Wilson,' and we bowed -to each other. I thought it an awful waste of time -when every second mattered, and what we had to do -had to be done quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went among the regulars, waking them, and -half-a-dozen glided to a wagon and came back with -rifles. Don Pedro took four of them along to the -inn, and I saw them pointing their rifles through the -windows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Don Pedro make them prisoners,' Navarro -whispered, with his eyes gleaming.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was a jolly smart move, and the officers never -made a sound. If they'd sung out or fired a shot, we -should have had the </span><em class="italics">machetos</em><span> round us in a second.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As fast as the other two woke their comrades, they -stole away and got rifles, some of them bringing back -a box of ammunition.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not a </span><em class="italics">macheto</em><span> moved, and you bet I kept my eyes -skinned lest they should wake, handing out ammunition -as fast as the regulars came up for it. By the -time I had seventy or eighty armed, I made them -climb on top of the four wagons, so that they could -defend themselves better in case the little forest-men -tried to rush us with their </span><em class="italics">machetes</em><span>; I lifted -Navarro on top of one of them too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One of these wagons was right in front of the -inn, so that my five young friends inside it had about -twenty rifle-muzzles to look at. Still not a macheto -stirred—they seemed dead to the world—so I went -across to the inn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was they who were up against something 'tough' -now, and they knew it, stood up, began unbuckling -their sword-belts, and were just going to hand them -to me, when I heard cries of '</span><em class="italics">Señor! Señor!</em><span>' heard -men running, and, looking over my shoulder, saw -the rest of the regulars swarming round the wagon -with the rifles in it, making a tremendous noise as -they pulled them out. I ran along the road, and, -as I ran, I saw the </span><em class="italics">machetos</em><span>, under the trees, all -rising to their feet, gripping those horrid </span><em class="italics">machetes</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I pointed to the wagons, there was no need for -orders, the regulars simply scrambled on top of them -like drowning rats on a log, running from wagon to -wagon to find room, and crawling underneath them -when they couldn't. I jumped across to where Jim, -my horse, was standing, got on him, and pulled him -into the middle of the road.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The little </span><em class="italics">machetos</em><span> hadn't quite got the hang of -affairs, and looked half-dazed to see the regulars -on top of the wagons and the rifles pointing at -them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I roared out, 'San Fernando! San Fernando!' -but they were too startled to obey; and Don Pedro -and his four men, too frightened to stay where they -were any longer, bolted for the nearest wagon, the -officers bursting out after them, and plunging into the -forest among their own men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'San Fernando!' I shouted, pointing down the -road, and some of the little forest-men seemed to -want to obey, but I saw those contemptible officers -going in among them and dragging them back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My aunt! I was in a jolly awkward fix. If they -only made a rush, my chaps would simply be eaten -up. I dare not get them down from the wagons to -stir up the mules, for I felt absolutely certain that -that would only be the signal for a massacre. We -couldn't move the wagons till the guns went on—the -road was not broad enough to pass them—and -the leading one was at least a couple of hundred -yards away. I saw a lot of the </span><em class="italics">machetos</em><span> dart across -the road ahead of us, and my heart went thump, for -I thought they were making ready for a rush, but the -little brutes simply unhitched the leading gun's mule -teams and led them into the forest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, that was checkmate with a vengeance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One of the officers now came up to the wagon on -which Navarro was sitting and spoke to him. He -sang out to me, and I went across.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He say, "No go San Fernando till night; if -soldiers no give up rifles, </span><em class="italics">machetos</em><span> kill them. Officers -tell </span><em class="italics">machetos</em><span>, soldiers take guns to Zorilla."'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was in a funk himself; the trees on both sides -of us were simply swarming with the fierce little men, -and I didn't know what to do, my brain seemed all -woolly, but I dare not let the regulars throw their -rifles down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh! that I knew Spanish and could talk to the -little chaps and explain things,' I was thinking, when -there was the sound of a horse galloping along the -road, behind us, and the 'Gnome' dashed up. I was -glad to see him, if you like.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked at the regulars on top of the wagons, -timidly pointing their rifles across the road, and at -the crowds of </span><em class="italics">machetos</em><span> in the woods, and didn't know -what to think of it. Before he'd caught sight of me, -I saw one of the officers running to him. I knew -he'd tell him lies, so I cantered up to him too. He -looked startled to see me, but quite pleased, and I -made him come to the wagon where Navarro sat. -'Tell him—ex-plain,' I sang out. They seemed to -know each other very well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You should have seen him after he and Navarro -had talked for a few seconds. He was in a towering -rage, and he rode backwards and forwards along the -edge of the road, evidently telling the officers exactly -what he thought of them, and I knew that things -were going right, because Navarro looked so chirpy -and the officers so ashamed of themselves. The -regulars, too, began to put up their rifles, and those -who had crawled under the wagons crawled out -again. Then, at last, the little forest-men stuck -their </span><em class="italics">machetes</em><span> back into their belts, and a couple of -hundred of them came along, looking like naughty -children, and took charge of the mule teams. My -aunt! I was so relieved and thankful and tired and -hungry and hot all at the same time that I would -have done any mortal thing for my fat little 'Gnome.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He sent the officers and the rest of their men away -into the forest—to rejoin Gerald, I suppose—and jolly -glad I was to see the last of them. Then we shoved -off, rattling down the road, and you may guess that -I never wanted to see that inn again. The 'Gnome' -stopped with us for about a mile, and then, taking off -his hat to me, galloped on ahead, leaving me with no -one to question my authority any more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Still, I didn't feel in the least sure that those other -fellows wouldn't come back, so, with help from Navarro -and Don Pedro, I got the two hundred regulars into -some sort of order, fifty of them well in front of the -guns as an advance guard, fifty between the guns -and the wagons, fifty as a rear guard, and the -remainder riding on the wagons themselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I wanted to make the little forest-men, who were -leading the mules, give up their </span><em class="italics">machetes</em><span>, and -explained that to Navarro, but he smiled, shook his -head, and said, '</span><em class="italics">Machetos</em><span> good men now,' so I had -to be satisfied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We tramped along like this, the mules getting -slower and slower, till half-past one, when a violent -thunderstorm made it almost as dark as night, and -wetted us to the skin. It was jolly refreshing whilst -it lasted, cooled the air splendidly, and afterwards we -got along much faster. By three o'clock we were out -of the forest; I had nothing to fear from the -forest-men, and was as happy as a king. We rumbled -down to the stream, splashed through the ford, after -a lot of trouble with the mules, who would fill -themselves with water before they'd come on, breasted the -slope again, and got on top of the ridge looking -down over San Fernando.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You can jolly well imagine how glad I was to see -it, and the old </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> lying offshore. From here it -was simply a triumphal procession. The 'Gnome' -must have let the people know what had happened, -for they met us in hundreds, flocking round me, -trying to lead my horse, even to kiss my gaiters, -dancing and shouting and clapping their hands, and -fighting for the honour of holding on to the gun -traces. '</span><em class="italics">Viva los canones! Viva los Inglesas!</em><span>' they -shouted, and dragged the guns along, much to the -relief of the mules.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The cathedral bells were clanging joyously when -we marched into the square, I in front, Navarro on -his litter beside me, Zorilla's charger behind us, then -the two hundred regulars walking in front of the -leading gun. You can guess how jolly important -I felt, for the whole population had turned out, -huzzahing and throwing their hats in the air, and on -the steps and verandah of the Club were a lot of the -</span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> chaps and the Skipper himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As I took off my panama hat to salute him, he -sang out, 'Good lad! Good lad!' and Navarro, -seeing them, called out, '</span><em class="italics">El Medico!</em><span>'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Clegg, our Surgeon, was leaning over the verandah, -so I stopped and had him taken in there. 'Look -after him, will you?' I called out to Clegg; 'his leg's -badly broken,' and on we went again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The regulars, in their hated uniforms, were a bit -of a puzzle to the crowd, but they thought they had -deserted to the insurgents, and soon swarmed round -them, shouting, '</span><em class="italics">Viva los cazedores!</em><span>' tearing off -their own green and black rosettes and pinning them -on the soldiers' sleeves. Many of them had already -got rid of their green and yellow badges, and you -may bet your life they didn't object to the black and -green ones, so long as their skins were safe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ever since I had been stabbed by that wretched -little ex-policeman, and whenever I got in among a -crowd of natives, I found myself looking round to see -if I could recognise him. I was doing so now without -knowing it, looking from face to face all round me. -Perhaps it was because of what Navarro had said, -'He will never cease revenge,' but I had the most -extraordinary feeling that he was there, somewhere, -and had his cunning little eyes fixed on me. I -couldn't see him anywhere, and thought the strange -fancy was probably due to my being so sleepy. I -pulled myself together, because we were now abreast -the cathedral, the front of which had been hung with -black and green flags, and, on the steps, the whole -of the Provisional Government was waiting for me, -bowing and taking off their top-hats. It was all I -could do to keep from laughing, although I was so -tired and sleepy and hungry that I could hardly sit -in my saddle. They made me dismount, and would -have kept me there for ages, but I seized hold of -Mr. Don Pedro, pushed him forward, took my hat -off, bowed, and led my plucky little stallion back to -the Club. I knew that he would explain everything, -and I always hate being fussed over. The crowd -made way for me as if I'd been a blooming emperor; -but I felt a touch on my shoulder and jumped, for I -was still thinking of the little brute.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Beg parding, sir,' I heard some one say, and -there was O'Leary, his funny old face simply as -excited as a child's. 'We'd just like you to see that -'ere bit of 'ydraulic machinery what we brought along -with us, sir.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Right you are,' I sang out—I know I yawned, I -couldn't help it—and he took me through a side street -to the water front and a long low building, which ran -along the shore, with a tumble-down 'yard' in front -of it. Inside the tumble-down gates there were thirty -or forty of our petty officers, with their jumpers off, -digging out like pepper among a crowd of half-naked -natives.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Look what we've done, sir,' O'Leary grinned, -and there I saw the long chases of two 4.7's sticking -up from their field carriages.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Pretty good work that,' I said, yawning again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They didn't know nothink about 'em, sir, but for -us, sir,' he grinned; they were all grinning with -delight, and the armourer's crew, as black as paint, -came across from a forge, in a shed beyond, stood by -the guns, and grinned too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Your brother's done a good day's work, we hear, -sir,' Griffiths, the boatswain's mate, said, saluting me; -'these 'ere guns'll be a pleasant sur—prise to him -when he gets back.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Bob and the 'Angel,' Barton, the senior -mid., Blotchy Smith, half-a-dozen more mids., and -Marchant, the 'Inkslinger,' with their coats off, and -covered with grease and dirt, came running across.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What are you up to?' I asked, and they dragged -me to another corner of the yard, and I found they'd -been 'assembling' the pom-poms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We've just been giving the chaps a bit of drill,' -Bob squeaked. 'We're having a glorious time. I -wish we could stay on shore till the morning. We'd -have everything finished by then. Won't Cousin -Gerald be pleased?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, I was much too tired to stay any longer, and -shoved off, all of them hurrying back to finish their -job.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>O'Leary followed me out. 'They don't know how -they came 'ere, sir. I gave them English gents the -"tip," and they were all out of their packin'-cases -when I comes along, innercent like, with all these -chaps. We just looks in at the gateway, and sees -'em all lying "'iggle de piggledy" like, a-lying on -the ground, and, well, I says to 'em, "Mr. Wilson, -our Sub, what the Commander bullies, 'as a brother -fighting for these 'ere niggers, so one good turn -deserves another, so 'wot oh!'" and we just 'as a -quiet arternoon's fun, and you sees what we've done, sir.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He'll be awfully pleased. Thank you very much -indeed,' I said, and tramped back to the Club, more -dead than alive, looking from side to side all the -time, in case that little brute was lurking about -anywhere with his knife. I was so stiff that I could -hardly move one leg in front of the other, and my -back aches now when I think of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Zorilla's black charger was tied up to the Club -railings, the groom apparently waiting for me, and -I handed over both of the tired horses to one of the -Englishmen who was there, stumbled up the steps, -and fell back in one of those easy-chairs on the -verandah, pretty well played out. Dr. Clegg came -along.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What do you think of my pal?' I asked him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He won't be on his legs again for six months,' -he told me, 'I'm going to take him on board the -</span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> for the Fleet Surgeon to see.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was absolutely too weary just then to worry -about anything, but I know that there were a lot of -formalities to go through before he could be taken -aboard, and that the Skipper and one of the San -Fernando Englishmen bustled about and managed -it all right. The Provisional Government would -have done anything for us just then. I was jolly -glad, because I owed a great deal more to little -Navarro than I could repay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I don't know when I had felt so tired, and though -any number of our chaps were crowding round me -wanting me to talk, and the townspeople were -thronging against the Club railings to see me, I -hardly noticed them, and just wanted something to -drink and then go to sleep. I really couldn't keep -my eyes open.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="zorilla-attacks"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">Zorilla attacks</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Written by Sub-Lieutenant William Wilson, R.N.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>I slept like a top for an hour, and woke up in a -fright; I thought that little brute was trying to stab -me, but it was only one of the local Englishmen, a -man named Seymour, shaking me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'll be more careful next time,' he said, smiling -and rubbing his shoulder where I'd caught him -'one' as he bent over me. 'You yelled as if you -were being murdered.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I thought I was,' I said, waking up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had just come back from Gerald, and had a -message for me. Gerald wanted me to go out to him -again. He was at a place called Marina, about eight -miles along the coast-line, half-way to El Castellar, -and was making it his headquarters for the night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You'll see lots of fun if you go out there,' -Seymour told me, 'he has Zorilla's army surrounded -just above Alvarez's farm, not two miles from Marina, -and expects to collar the whole lot to-night or -to-morrow morning. He's done a great day's work and -has captured the last gun they have.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was sending his own buggy to Marina with -Gerald's bag, and offered me a lift.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You may bet I jumped at the offer; there was just -time for me to have a wash and some tea; along came -the carriage with two jolly smart ponies in it; one of -the Club servants brought down Gerald's kit-bag—one -of the last presents the mater had given him before he -left home—in I jumped, and away those ponies flew, -bumping the carriage along at a fine rate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no more going to sleep then—it was as -much as I could do to hold on to my seat, and prevent -myself being chucked out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We rattled down to the foreshore and turned along -the coast road, bowling along it at a great pace, every -now and then meeting wounded men limping wearily -towards San Fernando. Some of our own ward-room -officers were tramping back to catch the 'dinner' -boat off to the ship, and they must have envied me -pretty considerably. Thank goodness, the Skipper -had given me forty-eight hours' leave, and I hadn't to -get aboard till to-morrow at noon. I was so jolly -keen to see some more fun, and to tell Gerald how I'd -managed to bring those guns back to San Fernando, -that I forgot all about being so sleepy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The road ran along the top of the beach, skirting -the shore all the way, and the forest came right up to -the side of it, and made it beautifully shady, but it -was in such a terrible state of holes and ruts, crumbling -down here and there on the beach side, and -overgrown with bushes on the forest side, that it looked -as if the sea and the forest between them would -swallow it up pretty soon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Four miles out from the town there were two -poor chaps lying by the roadside; I expect they had -been wounded during the night, and had tried to -make their way into San Fernando, but died before -they could do so. Horrid-looking crows, something -like vultures, were hopping about round them. I -hated the brutes—they hardly got out of the way of -the wheels.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just as it was getting dusk we passed some -bungalows, and the native driver shouted, '</span><em class="italics">Marina! -El Casino!</em><span>' pointing ahead to a large building in -front of us standing close to the beach.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'</span><em class="italics">Don Geraldio!</em><span>' he nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then we splashed through a stream, and it wasn't -too dark for me to see a little native chap squatting -by the side of a low garden wall there, or to recognise -him. It was that ex-policeman—I could see the scar -on his forehead—somehow or other I was expecting -to see him—and, without thinking, I jumped out of the -carriage, stumbled for an instant, and then sprang at -him, but he'd seen me too, and fled. I had Don -Pedro's revolver with me, and fired as he jumped -the low wall and darted among some trees. I was -after him in a second—of course I had missed him, -I always was a rotten shot with a revolver at any -time—and then he fired back, and a bullet sung past -my elbow. I caught sight of his white shirt among -the trees, and fired at him again, and he bolted out of -the garden, across the road, and into the forest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was hopeless to follow him there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The pistol-shots had frightened the ponies, and -they were dashing madly along the road, Gerald's -kit-bag flying out. I picked it up, and lugged it -along to the front of that big building—a gaudy-looking -kind of place, nearly all windows, with a -flat roof, verandahs and balconies all round it, and -'</span><em class="italics">El Casino</em><span>,' in big gilt letters over the door, -half-hidden by a huge black and green flag which hung -down over the entrance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gerald, surrounded by officers, was standing at the -top of the steps, and I was only thankful that that -little brute had not gone on another hundred yards.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Hello, Billums!' Gerald sang out. 'Got my -bag all right? I thought, when the buggy dashed -past a moment ago, that old Zorilla would get it. -Come along with me, I'm going to have a shave and -get into clean things.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took me along with him, and whilst he was -shaving himself, and his little groom, José, was -unpacking his bag, I told him about the ex-policeman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'For goodness' sake, take care of yourself, Gerald,' -I said; 'he'll get you if he dies for it,' but 'Don't -worry,' was all I could get out of him, as he scraped -his face. I don't mind telling you that I was thoroughly -frightened—much more for Gerald than myself, though -the more I bothered him to take some precautions, the -more angry he got.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Blow it!' he said; 'you've made me cut myself. -Confound these safety razors. My dear Billums, if -he's going to get me, he will. I'll keep my eye -skinned for the beast, but they're all so much alike -that you can't tell t'other from which—scar or no -scar. Nobody's life is worth a cent in this country -unless you trust to luck.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But why don't you have an escort?' I pleaded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Have an escort? My dear Billums, if I had an -escort, they'd think I was afraid.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I gave it up, and told him all about bringing -those guns and ammunition-wagons back into San -Fernando, and all the troubles I'd had with the -officers and their men; I didn't forget to tell him -about the 'Gnome' coming up in the nick of time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was jolly pleased, though he didn't say much. -'That chap you call the 'Gnome' is one of the best -people I've got, I don't know what I should do -without him.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All this time orderlies came in and out, and Gerald -did not seem to have a moment's peace. Then a -man came in with a note.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's from Zorilla,' Gerald said. 'He wants to -know what's become of Navarro, his fat little A.D.C. -You ought to know—that chap with the cigarette case.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I told him he had been taken on board the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Jolly glad,' he said, sent for some paper, sat down -with the soap lather on his face and a towel round his -waist, and wrote a reply. 'Wouldn't be the proper -thing not to write it myself.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Tell Zorilla we found his horse, and have brought -him into San Fernando,' I sang out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Good stroke, Billums, good stroke. We'll send -him back when he's fit—always make friends of an -enemy, especially if he's a good chap like Zorilla,' -and he added a postscript.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Where is he?' I asked, as the messenger darted away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'About three miles off—in another clearing, for the -night.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But the horse won't be much good to him,' I said, -remembering what the Englishman had told me. -'You've got him surrounded, and he must surrender, -mustn't he?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Yes, I have,' Gerald smiled, 'three thousand men -round about the same number. I don't believe I have -more—hundreds have gone off to their homes with -loot. I tell you what. Old Zorilla isn't beaten till he's -dead, and he may be up to any tricks to-night. It's -seven miles to El Castellar and it's eight to San -Fernando, and he'll lose his job and his reputation if -he falls back on the fort. He's lost his guns, and -he'll get 'em back, and San Fernando too, if he dies -for it. I know the dear old chap.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I thought you'd won,' I said, feeling very worried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, bother! You've never won in this country. -The more you win, the more enemies you make—there -are plenty of people, on our side, who want -me out of it. That is why those chaps wouldn't obey -you this morning—they're as jealous as thieves. I -run the show, and they don't like it—a good many -of them don't—not the men, the officers. They want -their siesta in the middle of the day, and eight hours' -sleep besides—it's the custom of the country—they -don't get it. They've always run revolutions on -those lines, and I don't.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He'd dressed himself now and brushed his yellow -hair well back. 'That's better; come along and have -some grub.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, I hadn't any appetite, but he had—and ate -a jolly good meal in spite of all the orderlies and -officers coming and going. He did want to dine on -the open verandah, close to the road, but I thought -of that little beast creeping up with the revolver, and -managed to get him into an inside room, by -complaining of the cold. The air was so still that all -the time he was eating we could hear firing going -on far away in the forest, but that didn't interfere with -his appetite in the least. 'Zorilla's not made a move -yet,' he said at last. 'Come and have a game of -billiards,' and we did actually play on a French table -with balls as big as oranges, in a room overlooking -the sea, the cool breeze blowing through wide-open -windows, and the noise of rifle-shots almost drowned -by the lazy noise of the water on the beach. José, -who seemed to follow Gerald about like a dog, squatted -in a corner, a young insurgent officer scored for us, -and Gerald, playing stiffly with his bad arm, was as -keen on beating me as if we had been in the pater's -billiard-room at home. We were half-way through -the game, and he was piling up cannon after cannon, -sprawling over the table to make his strokes, and I -was standing at his side, when I suddenly heard -something snap outside, saw the insurgent officer look -out—fright on his face—turned my head, and there -was that little beast, with a joyful smile on his ugly -face, pointing a revolver straight through the window -at Gerald.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I don't know how I did it, but I'd pulled Gerald -off the table, and he was sprawling on the floor, -before the room filled with smoke and noise, and a -bullet had cut clean across the green cloth. I saw -the insurgent officer whip out a revolver and fire, I -sprang out into the dark with mine, and José, with -a yell, a </span><em class="italics">machete</em><span> in his hand, dashed past me, down -on to the beach. But there wasn't a sign of any one.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>People rushed into the room, the lights were -knocked out, and then Gerald sang out, asking what -was the matter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'My dear Billums, I wouldn't have had that -happen for worlds,' he said, when the lamps had -been relighted, and I'd shown him where the bullet -had ripped across the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What happen?' I asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Why, you knocking me down, of course.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was quite hurt about it, and wanted to finish -the game, said the cut across the cloth would make it -all the more 'sporting,' but the noise of firing in the -forest became more furious, and orderlies came in -with news that Zorilla was on the move at last.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gerald wrote out more orders and shrugged his -shoulders. 'He's marching towards El Castellan. -I suppose he thinks I shall try and prevent him.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But won't you?' I asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'My dear Billums, of course not; he can go -there as fast as he likes. He thinks I shall try and -get in front of him, and then he'll double back to -San Fernando. Not much! Come along and we'll -have a look round.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I followed him out of the Casino—it was quite -dark, the forest absolutely black—we mounted horses, -and, with a lot of officers, trotted down the road. I -was so nervous and overwrought in the dark lanes, -which we presently rode through, that my heart -thumped every time I heard '</span><em class="italics">Quien Vive!</em><span>' or '</span><em class="italics">Que -Gente!</em><span>' called out by sentries or pickets we couldn't -see, and the murmurs of '</span><em class="italics">Yuesencia!</em><span>' or '</span><em class="italics">Don -Geraldio!</em><span>' from hundreds of unseen mouths. Gerald -found some officers and seemed satisfied; somehow -or other we got back, and the night was so still, -except for the distant firing, the rustling trees, and -the very faint noise of the sea, and the darkness was -so intense, that I was jolly glad to be inside the -Casino again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>More orderlies were waiting for Gerald here, and -a prisoner was dragged into the light.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That settles it,' he said decisively, looking at the -poor, miserable, frightened, whining brute. 'He's -been caught in the El Castellar direction—where -they are advancing. He belongs to the 5th Santa -Cruz </span><em class="italics">Cazedores</em><span>—the worst fighters in the army. Old -Zorilla wouldn't put them there if he was in earnest. -I'm going to bring back every man I can get hold -of, place them the other side of that stream—down -the road there—it runs nearly straight inland for -four or five miles, and I wish to goodness the moon -would come out.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whilst he was speaking, a whole crowd of bare-footed -riflemen and </span><em class="italics">machetos</em><span> went silently past, going -back towards San Fernando, the officers, haggard and -dirty, stopping to salute Gerald and ask for orders -before disappearing after them. It was the noiselessness -of them all that was getting on my nerves, and -the feeling of hopelessness at not being able to speak -to any one except Gerald. All this time, too, I kept -looking out for that ex-policeman, expecting him to -spring out at any moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every one who came along I half expected to be -he, and little José, I think, did so too, standing close -to Gerald, just like a cat, with a </span><em class="italics">machete</em><span> in his -hand. Gerald saw it once, and made him throw it -away, but he picked it up again when Gerald wasn't -looking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The 'Gnome' appeared from somewhere, and I -saw that my brother was very glad to see him—he -came across to me, and we bowed, and I squeezed -his hand. He was sent away along that stream -with some men he'd brought. 'Come and finish -our game of billiards, Billums,' Gerald sang out. -Honestly I don't know whether he was showing off, -or was nervous, or whether he did really want to -finish it, but we heard a heavy carriage splashing -through that stream, and the new President—de -Costa himself—appeared. They both went into the -Casino and, I was thankful to see, into an upstairs -room, where they couldn't be shot at. I went with -them and sat down in a chair—their voices seemed -to be floating away somewhere—and the next I know -was that little José was pulling at my sleeve, it was -just getting light, very heavy firing was going on -close by, yells and shrieks were coming from the -forest, and men were running noisily along the road -beneath the window. Gerald wasn't there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I sprang up and followed José. The Casino was -empty, and, as I dashed out, a window, above me, -broke and fell in little pieces at my feet. I heard -bullets flying everywhere.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I looked down towards the stream, and people -were lying on the road, beyond the ford, firing in -our direction. José pulled me back behind the -Casino, and we ran along the shore, waded through -the stream as it flowed over the sands, and got behind -our people. Gerald wasn't there either, only the -'Gnome,' in his big hat, waddling backwards and -forwards.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 71%" id="figure-123"> -<span id="william-wilson-and-the-gnome"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="William Wilson and the Gnome" src="images/img-209.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">William Wilson and the Gnome</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Geraldio? Don Geraldio?' I asked, and he stopped -a moment to point away up stream.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was trying to stop the shooting, because there -was nobody in sight, although bullets were flying -past all the time, and very heavy firing was going -on further inland. He managed to stop it presently, -and then I had time to look round.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just across the stream was the little wall under -which the ex-policeman had been sitting last night. -It enclosed the garden of a small bungalow, and one -side of it ran along the road, and the other along the -stream. It was light enough for me to see the road -running up to the Casino, about a hundred and fifty -yards further on—the black and green flag was still -hanging there—and about three hundred yards -beyond this it turned away to the left, and we could -only see the glimmer of light on the water. As far -as I could tell, we had none of our people in front -of us, but it was impossible to make out anything in -the forest, on the left of the road, and it turned out -that we still had a lot of chaps there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The 'Gnome' was extending his people down -the beach, making them scrape up a kind of breastwork -in the sand, right down to the edge of the sea. -They began digging away like a lot of hungry -wolves, and some of them had found fishing nets, -and were laying them down on the far side of the -stream. I suppose one always thinks the position -one happens to be in must be the main point of -attack, and I wished to goodness that Gerald would -come along, for I didn't like the way the chaps lying -in the road kept looking back. I guessed that what -Gerald had expected last night had happened, and -that Zorilla had turned at last, and thought what a -grand old chap he must be, after all his bad luck, to -be able to make his disheartened, half-starved troops -attack us.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-fight-round-the-casino"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER X</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Fight round the Casino</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Written by Sub-Lieutenant William Wilson, R.N.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Well, if Zorilla intended to try and cut his way -past us into San Fernando, I'd learnt enough about -the old man to know that it would be jolly hard work -to stop him, and it struck me that the little chaps, on -each side of me, were not placed in a very good -position to defend the road and the beach, and that -the 'Gnome,' however plucky a chap he was, did not -seem at all certain what to do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The good sleep which I had had must have cleared -my brain. Whatever was the cause, I seemed to -realise, all at once, exactly what ought to be done. Of -course I was tremendously excited, but I tried to calm -myself by imagining that this was only a sham-fight, -and to think what would be the natural thing to do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was all very well to make our little chaps lie -down behind the ford and behind the stream where -it trickled down the beach, but, however deep it was -farther inland, it was so shallow here that it hardly -covered one's boots and wouldn't stop a cat. To stop -where we were, and leave that bungalow garden wall, -on the enemy's side, unoccupied, was perfectly silly, -and I looked about to see if there was not something -we could use to barricade the road itself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I saw those empty wagons standing in front of the -Casino, and knew that if we only pulled them across -the road and put some of our chaps behind them, it -would be grand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>First of all, for that bungalow wall, I thought, and, -almost before I knew what I was doing, I found -myself dashing across the stream, and looking over it -to see if it would be any use to make the little chaps -fire over it. But for the giant palms and ferns, in the -garden, I could see right along the road, and fellows -behind it could easily sweep the road with rifle-fire. -I called José, and he came, then the 'Gnome' came, -stood on tip-toe, looked over, and knew exactly what -I meant. I seized a </span><em class="italics">machete</em><span>, jumped over the wall, -and began lopping down the palms, and in a minute -he'd sent thirty or forty chaps to help me, and began -bringing riflemen over to line the wall—he made -some climb on the roof of the bungalow, too, where -they could get even a better field of fire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now for those wagons, I thought, and began -trotting down the road towards the Casino, hoping -that the others would come along as well, but only -José panted after me, singing out 'No, no!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'</span><em class="italics">No, Señor, no!</em><span>' the Gnome shouted, but I -wasn't going back, for another idea came to me. -How about the top of the Casino itself?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I got up to the Casino, dashed in, and ran -upstairs—I knew that there must be a way to the roof, as -there were railings all round it, and it was flat. I -found a staircase leading up there, and was on top in -a jiffy, José following me and pulling me down to my -knees, because, directly my head had shown above -the railings, there were yells from the edge of the -forest, and bullets came splattering against the house. -I wriggled myself to the edge and looked down, -really only wanting to see whether it commanded the -road properly, but—my eye!—beyond that corner, -three hundred yards further along, collecting there, -as far back as I could see, were hundreds of cavalry, -and the woods were thick with infantry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I beckoned to José, and he crawled across and -looked too; his face got almost white when he saw -what I had seen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I heard the people at the ford opening fire. -'</span><em class="italics">Señor! Señor!</em><span>' José cried, and pointed down into the -road at our feet, and I saw there, right below us, -twenty or thirty regulars streaming across the road -from the forest to the front of the Casino—the leading -ones were already springing up the steps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We were down off that roof like redshanks, and as -we got down to the first floor we heard them -clambering up the main staircase. We raced down the -corridor and saw the first of them. They saw us and -yelled. I fired my revolver in their faces and dashed -into a back bedroom, José slamming the door behind -us. I knew there was a verandah outside, and we -jumped out, swarmed down a supporting pillar—like -monkeys—and swung off back along the beach, the -soldiers firing at us from the verandah we'd just left. -I split one of the knees of my riding breeches, I ran -so fast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I didn't run so fast entirely on account of those -bullets, but because I wanted to let the 'Gnome' -know what I had seen round that corner. José told -him, pointing up the road.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had commenced firing at us now from the -Casino; one of our chaps kneeling in the road dropped -his rifle and fell backwards, the 'Gnome's' big hat -spun round and fell on the ground. He picked it -up, put a finger through a bullet-hole, and stuck it on -again. He didn't look frightened, but muddled—he -didn't seem to know what to do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My aunt! it was all clear enough to me—now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All that heavy firing, away on the left, where my -brother had gone, was merely Zorilla's bluff, just a -piece with his pretending to fall back on El Castellar, -in the night, and he meant to make his real attack -along the road. As soon as his cavalry were ready -he'd launch them along the beach and across the ford, -and simply gallop into San Fernando, clearing the -way for his infantry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oh, why wouldn't Gerald come and tell us what to do!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'</span><em class="italics">Geraldio! Don Geraldio!</em><span>' I shouted to José, -pushing him to the left, and he understood, and -bolted along the edge of the stream in among the -trees where our little men were swarming.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We couldn't stay where we were, for the regulars -simply rested their rifles on the verandah and the -window ledges and fired point-blank at us. Several -of our chaps, lying across the road, had been hit -already, and although the 'Gnome' brought more -men and made them form a double line, with fixed -bayonets, ready to spring to their knees directly they -were wanted, they were terrified and kept turning to -look backwards. Every second I expected to see the -cavalry come thundering round that bend in the road, -and I knew that we couldn't possibly stop them. -Our own chaps behind the low wall were certainly -potting at the regulars in the Casino, but they didn't -even aim properly, they were too frightened, simply -popping up over the wall and firing haphazard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Three more of our men were hit, the 'Gnome' -couldn't make any more fill their places, and I knew -that, in a few minutes, those who were there would -creep back among the trees. The 'Gnome' stood in -the middle of the road, behind them, one hand on his -sword-hilt and the other on his revolver holster, as -brave as a lion, but I could see that he hadn't an idea -what to do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I knew, I knew well enough, that we couldn't stop -the cavalry, but if we could only capture the Casino -and occupy that flat roof before they charged, we -might possibly check the advance of his infantry till -Gerald came back. I couldn't explain all this to the -'Gnome,' who stood there looking stupid, with bullets -flicking all round him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oh, why wouldn't Gerald come and lead them!—I couldn't.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I heard the sound of a horse galloping towards -us—from behind—from San Fernando way. Some one -in white was coming along as hard as his horse could -go. Gerald at last, I thought, and my heart thumped -with joy, but it wasn't, it was Seymour. As he leapt -off his horse it fell in the road, dead, and before it -had finished shuddering, half-a-dozen chaps were -fighting to take cover behind it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'For God's sake, help!' I said, jumping towards -him. 'Zorilla's cavalry is all round that bend—the -woods are full of his infantry—they're firing at us -from the windows of the Casino, and I can't make a -soul understand.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Where's your brother?' he said, out of breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Over to the left—there's been very heavy firing -there—I've sent to tell him.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I've come on to tell him there's a pom-pom -coming along the road—Jones and Richardson are -bringing it—it will be here in half an hour.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Half an hour! Good God! In half an hour all -would be over.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We must capture the Casino,' I said, trembling -with despair. 'They've only about twenty men there -at present. Tell him—tell that chap,' pointing to the -'Gnome', who was kicking and cuffing some of the -little men, squirming on their bellies and fighting -each other to get behind two dead men who lay in -the road.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Right you are, old chap,' and Seymour shouted to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I saw his face clear, he dashed off, and in a couple -of minutes had got hold of some men—those who -were lining the beach—harangued them, and then we -all rushed along the shore to the Casino. We were -hidden, a little, by that bungalow and the garden, -but I saw several hit before we got into the open, and -then a dozen fell. Seymour was in front of me with -a </span><em class="italics">machete</em><span> in his hand, I was a good second, and the -'Gnome' and thirty or forty natives were close behind -us. We poured over the verandah into the billiard-room, -but not a sign of any one was there, and all -the regulars were upstairs. Seymour yelled -something, and some of our fellows began firing up -through the ceiling, bringing the plaster down in -clouds. I and some others dashed for the main -staircase, but, at the top, the regulars were gathered, -and were firing down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the most appalling din—rifles firing, mirrors -and glasses smashing, and wood-work splintering -all round us. Our men wouldn't face the stairs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'There's a back staircase,' I heard Seymour yell, -and I went after him. We clattered up and burst on -those chaps from the rear. There was a scuffle, -Seymour shouted down for our people to stop firing, -and in five minutes there wasn't a living regular in -the house. Most of them had escaped by sliding -down from the verandah, and had run back into the -forest again, shooting at any one who went near a -window.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'On the roof!' I heard Seymour shouting, and -rushed back to find him leaning on the banisters—the -excited little brown men, thirsting for more blood, -crowding up the stairs, past him. He looked awfully -white.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What's the matter?' I yelled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Shot through the stomach—make these chaps -line the roof.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I saw the 'Gnome' dashing from room to room, -placing his men at the windows, and I rushed up to -the roof, pushing all the chaps in front of me, and -made them lie down along the four edges, shoulder -to shoulder with their rifles pointing over the -concrete ledge—across the beach at the rear of the -house, back towards the stream where Seymour's -dead horse was lying, across the road in front of the -Casino, and, on the fourth side, right along the road -and round that bend in it. The cavalry men were -still clustered there, and they were so numerous that I -couldn't see the end of them among the trees; some -were dismounted, so that Zorilla evidently was not -ready yet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Fire! Fire!' I yelled, pointing towards them, -but the little chaps seemed numbed and frightened at -the sight of them and wouldn't fire. I suppose they -were overawed by the sight of the cavalry, or perhaps -they knew there would be no escape from that house -if Zorilla's people won, and feared to anger them. -Perhaps, too, as no bullets were coming at them they -didn't want to draw their fire. Whatever it was I -couldn't get them to shoot, so I seized a man's rifle, -kicked him out of the way—pulled back the bolt to -see if it was loaded—leant it against the edge, aimed -right in among the cavalry, and fired. I saw a horse -fall down in a heap, and his rider extricate himself, -looking this way and that to see where the bullet -had come from. I fired again and again—there was -a stir among them—the little chaps on either side -of me bucked up and began to let off their rifles—the -cavalry began fidgeting, crowding and jostling -together—more horses fell—there was a sudden -turning of the horses' heads, and they all began to -retire. My little chaps squealed with delight, the -little fellow whose rifle I'd bagged, seized it, -imploring me with his black eyes to let him have a -turn, and I crawled away, breathing freely again, for -the cavalry had all retired behind the next bend in -the road, and I knew that they were not yet ready to -charge. But we had drawn a tremendous fire from -the infantry in the woods, and we could not see any -one to aim at.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then I thought of Seymour, and jumped down -the stairs to see what I could do for him. He was -still leaning on the banisters—deadly pale. 'The -cavalry have retired. We've time for a breather. -Show me where you are hit.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He pointed just below the middle of his stomach, -and I knew what was the only thing I could do, for -Dr. Clegg had been teaching us 'first aid' ever since -we left Gibraltar. I tore a sheet off a bed, tore it in -strips, and wound them round his stomach as tightly -as I could. 'For God's sake, fetch me a drink,' he -gasped, but Dr. Clegg had said: 'If any of you get -shot through the stomach, throw your water-bottle -and biscuits away and lie down. It's your only -chance.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No, not a drop!' I said, and wanted him to lie -down—he wouldn't. 'I'll go on the roof. I can -help there.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I carried him up, very gently, and laid him down -in the middle—with the little men's naked feet and -their yellow soles and toes all round him. I got a -mattress, too, and made him lie on it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I can just see that bend in the road,' he said; 'I can -manage all right; get those wagons across the road.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had forgotten them. I ran below, slipped on the -stairs—they were wet with blood—steadied myself, -and got down to the ground floor. The 'Gnome' -was there, tying a table-napkin round the arm of a -native. He smiled at me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Wagons!' I shouted, pointing through the -doorway to where they stood. He knew what I meant, -dropped the napkin, roared to his men, and they -began pouring out from the lower rooms. We ran -across the road under a very heavy fire, got hold of -the wheels of one, and, shoving for all we were worth, -pushed it into the middle of the road. The man -next me fell, shrieking, and clutched my feet; I shook -him off, and we rushed back for another wagon, and -were just getting a 'move' on it when I heard yells -of '</span><em class="italics">Yuesencia! Yuesencia!</em><span>' The little chaps on the -roof who were lining that side of the Casino began -shouting, '</span><em class="italics">Don Geraldio! Don Geraldio!</em><span>' and I saw -Gerald galloping up to the ford and the few men -who still lined that garden wall. I shouted out -'Hurrah!' we all shouted, and then came a roaring -noise from the road, the clatter of horses' hoofs, and -round the bend thundered the cavalry. They were -coming along the beach too, their lances and -pennons lowered—and my fellows on the roof began -firing like 'billy loo.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'One more push—shove altogether!' I yelled. -The front wheels were on the road, but the rear ones -stuck fast, and the 'Gnome' and his men dashed back -to the Casino.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before I could follow them, Zorilla's cavalry were -on top of me. I dodged to the rear of the first wagon -as they swept round it. Over it went, there was a -jumble of horses and men, and I was dashed to the -ground, my right leg jammed down by a horse. -Troopers tried to cut at me or get me with their -lances, but they were swept along by those coming -behind them. The horse which was pinning me -down half struggled to its feet, I drew my leg away, -and huddled under the wagon as they thundered -along the road to the ford.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 78%" id="figure-124"> -<span id="i-dodged-to-the-rear-of-the-first-wagon"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""I DODGED TO THE REAR OF THE FIRST WAGON"" src="images/img-221.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"I DODGED TO THE REAR OF THE FIRST WAGON"</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>I'd been knocked a bit 'silly,' and the next I know -I was hobbling up the stairs to the roof with my -right leg giving me 'gyp,' and the little brown chaps -firing like mad.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Look! Look!' Seymour cried, leaning on his -elbows and pointing towards San Fernando.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oh! My God! The cavalry had swept clean -across the stream and were dashing madly along the -road and beach, but behind them they left a trail of -dead and wounded men and horses. I saw some -riderless horses dashing backwards and forwards, -and then had to lie down because the firing was so -heavy. I hadn't seen Gerald, and there seemed to be -no one alive at the ford.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The infantry are advancing now,' Seymour told -me, but it was that cloud of cavalry galloping -towards San Fernando that I couldn't take my eyes -off—there must have been five hundred of them, and -we could hear the noise they made though they were -a mile away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'D'you hear that?' Seymour cried; 'Jones and -Richardson have started firing.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hear! Why, I jumped to my feet and yelled with -delight, for the 'pom—pom—pom—pom,' 'pom—pom—pom,' -'pom—pom—pom' and the 'crack—crack—crack' -of the little one-pound shells bursting, -told me what had happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Keep down, you fool!' Seymour shouted. Bullets -were shrieking past, chipping against the concrete -every second, and Zorilla's infantry were coming -down the road and through the trees, in close order, -sweeping past the Casino towards the ford.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My aunt! how we shot! I'd never heard any -noise like the noise of the firing that went on then, -and I wonder, now, how many of those rifles were -properly aimed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Casino seemed to be trembling and shaking, -my little chaps began scrambling in the bottom of -their bags for cartridges, and I knew that they were -running short of ammunition, but then they began -shrieking with joy, because the infantry couldn't -stand the fire from Gerald's chaps along the stream, -and we saw them dodging back again from tree to -tree, and clearing away from the road—a tall gaunt -officer, on horseback, trying to stem the retreat and -turn them round again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Even at that distance I recognised him. It was -General Zorilla, but he couldn't make them face -the stream again, and they swept past him out of -sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The cavalry are broken!' Seymour cried -joyfully, and, turning my head, I saw them coming -back again, the pom-pom shells knocking up little -spurts of dust and smoke among them, and some of -Gerald's people at the side of the road firing -point-blank at them. They were having an awful time, -horses and men coming down every second, and as a -horse fell, it brought down others behind it, in a -heap of struggling bodies and legs, the little -white-shirted men darting out from the trees with their -</span><em class="italics">machetes</em><span> to kill the wretched troopers before they -could get to their feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Those still on horseback came nearer and nearer, -the leading ones were almost up to the ford, and I -could see them lying down on their horses' necks, -their arms raised in front of their heads, as Gerald's -people crowded to the side of the road to fire at them; -they burst through the stream and came flying past -the front of the Casino, many horses riderless, their -flanks streaming with blood from sharp spurs, and -their blood-shot eyes almost sticking out of their -heads. We could hear the sobbing noise they made -in their distress—poor brutes, they were absolutely -foundered.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 76%" id="figure-125"> -<span id="plan-of-operations-round-san-fernando"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="PLAN OF OPERATIONS ROUND SAN FERNANDO." src="images/img-225.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">PLAN OF OPERATIONS ROUND SAN FERNANDO.</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>Those of my chaps, on the roof, who had any -cartridges left let off their rifles at them again, and -at others who were lashing their poor tired brutes -through the sand, along the beach, at the back of -the house. I don't think that more than a couple -of hundred got back beyond that bend in safety. -One, a powerful-looking native, half-nigger, was the -last to come struggling along the beach. Hundreds -of bullets were hitting the sand all round him and -splashing in the water beyond, but he seemed to bear -a charmed life. He'd thrown away his rifle and his -lance, and as he came to that line of Gerald's people -across the beach, he put his hand in front of his face, -bent low over his horse's neck, and charged right -through them. I felt jolly glad to see him safe and -coming towards us, but then one of my own little -chaps ran out from the Casino, down the beach, -knelt down, raised his rifle, and waited for him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The trooper saw him, struck his poor beast with -the flat of his sword, and made one gallant effort to -ride him down, but the horse was so exhausted that -he could hardly raise a trot in that loose sand. The -little kneeling man fired, and the horse plunged on -to its head and rolled over, the trooper slipping to -his feet and jumping clear. With a yell he grabbed -his sword and rushed at the little man, and I thought -my chap was finished, but he had another cartridge -in his rifle, fired again, and the big trooper slithered -forward, clawed at the sand, and was dead. I felt -jolly sorry, but the men on the roof, watching with -bloodthirsty eyes, jumped to their feet and yelled, -and the little man, bending over the body, pulled off -the big trooper's boots, stuck them on his own feet, -and came awkwardly up to the Casino again, his face -beaming with pride.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I felt rather sick, and looked round. Seymour was -on his knees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We've won,' he cried, with a wild look in his eyes. -'I've done my bit, too.' He raised himself to his -feet, and would have fallen if I hadn't caught him and -lowered him on his mattress.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I heard shouts of '</span><em class="italics">Don Geraldio!</em><span>' '</span><em class="italics">Viva los -Horizontals!</em><span>' and looking over into the road, saw -dear old Gerald stalking along smoking his pipe, -making big strides over dead men and horses, and -José, in his red sash, leading his horse behind him. -I ran down to meet him as he came up the steps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We've won, Gerald!' I sang out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You've made a beastly mess of the Casino, -Billums; I hope no one has collared the mater's -bag,' was the only thing he said.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Well, that finished the 'Two Days' Fight' as it -was called; Gerald's chaps were too worn out and -too short of ammunition to follow Zorilla immediately, -and gave him time to withdraw, with the remnant of -his people, along the road to El Castellar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jones and Richardson came along presently with -their two pom-poms and five or six hundred riflemen -they had brought from San Fernando. They were -awfully full of 'buck.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We frightened those cavalry chaps with our shells, -and these little brownies stopped them with their -rifles,' they told us, as we all carried Seymour down -from the roof and put him in his buggy, which turned -up from somewhere or other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They took him back—very slowly and gently—to -San Fernando, and intended to take him on board -the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Thank God, you came!' I said. 'You were just -in time.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He smiled wildly, wanted to say something, but -didn't, and was taken away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And now came the saddest of all things, for the -wounded began to creep out of the forest and make -their way to the Casino or be carried there—hundreds -of them—and there wasn't a piece of lint or a bandage -in the place. They simply squatted down and waited—for -what I don't know. I got a good many of them -water from the Casino well, and they were very -grateful, but I couldn't do anything else.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I missed Gerald, went in search of him in the Casino, -heard the noise of splashing water, and found him -having a cold bath, José standing by to rub him down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Only thing which keeps me awake, Billums,' he -laughed. 'I've given my chaps a couple of hours' -sleep, and shall follow Zorilla as soon as those -field-guns you took into San Fernando come along. I've -sent for them.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They don't seem to be going to sleep yet,' I said, -for there was any amount of noise outside and -shouting of '</span><em class="italics">Viva Don Geraldio! Viva los Inglesas!</em><span>'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They want me, I expect,' he said; 'chuck us a -towel, Billums,' and, winding it round him, he went -out. He still had a nasty scar on the right -arm—where that bit of shell had hit him a month ago.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Tidy your yellow mop a bit,' I sang out, 'it's all -over your eyes,' so he smoothed it back and went -out on the balcony overlooking the road.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My aunt! there must have been thousands of the -little brown men and their black-bearded officers there, -and they made a tremendous noise, shouting, '</span><em class="italics">Viva -Yuesencia Don Geraldio!</em><span>'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was looking out from behind a door, and you bet -I was proud of old Gerald. Wouldn't the mater have -just loved to see him there, the only white-skinned -chap among them, and wouldn't the old pater have -grinned and chuckled to think he'd been the father -of him. I could just imagine him patting Gerald's -naked shoulder and tipping him a sovereign.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were more yells.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Come out, Billums, they want you!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I went cold all over.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Come out, you ass! Take your hat off too—let -'em see your straw thatching.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I went and stood beside him, and it was the -proudest thing that ever happened to me; it was -nothing but a sea of brown heads and white hats, -rifles and bayonets, and then they yelled and waved -their hats—even those of the wounded who could -stand, stood up and shouted, '</span><em class="italics">Viva los Hermanos!</em><span>'[#]</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Hermanos = brothers.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When the noises stopped a bit, I sang out, -'</span><em class="italics">Gracias! Gracias! Muchas Gracias!</em><span>'—about the -only Spanish words I knew. They cheered more -than ever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Quite effective show, that,' Gerald smiled -cynically, as he went back to dress, 'you and I -standing there by the side of the insurgent flag. -They love anything like that.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I hadn't really noticed the flag—I'd been much too -nervous.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That little fiend of yours tried his tricks on again -last night, tried to knife me,' he said presently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And you killed him?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I took away his knife and boxed his ears,' he told -me, lighting his pipe with one of my last matches. -'It's a treat to get a decent match, Billums, I hate -those "stinkerados"[#] we get in this confounded -country.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] 'Stinkerados' is a term applied to the ordinary -foul-smelling Spanish sulphur matches.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'Confounded country!' I answered angrily. 'You -seem to be risking a good deal for it. I wished to -goodness you'd killed the beast."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'My dear Billums, I'd fight on either side so long -as I could get a bit of excitement—so long as I could -boss the show.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I wish to goodness I could chip in with you,' I -told him. 'I don't even boss the gun-room—not -properly, the Commander thinks.' Oh, bother the -</span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>! I remembered that my leave was up at -noon. 'Bother it all, Gerald, I've got to keep the -"afternoon" watch, and see that a boat doesn't shove -off with the fenders over its side, and listen -respectfully whilst the Commander bellows at me that a -man hasn't got his chin-stay down, and that I'm an -incompetent, useless fool. It's nearly ten o'clock -now and I must be off.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He got me a horse, and I left him, his worn-out -little brown chaps, and his wounded, and shoved off -back to San Fernando, galloping along the beach, -and learnt then what an unsuccessful cavalry charge -meant; for the shore was strewn with dead and dying -horses, dead men, rifles, swords, lances, and, more -conspicuous than anything else, the red blankets -they'd thrown away in their retreat. The tide, too, -had risen and was half covering some of the bodies -with sand, as if it wanted to hide the horrid sight and -wipe out all traces of that awful morning's work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was looking about me for something to take back -for the mater, and had passed any number of ordinary -swords, which were not worth the trouble of dismounting, -but at last saw one with a very elaborate hilt and -sword-knot, lying close to a body stretched face -downwards in the sand, so jumped off and picked -it up. The uniform on the body was that of an -officer, and out of curiosity I turned the head round -with my foot. Ugh! It was Zorilla's black A.D.C., -the chap who had been so impressed with our after -9.2 gun that day we anchored off Los Angelos. I -scrambled back into the saddle with his sword and -rode on, shuddering and thinking a lot of things -which I couldn't write down, without you laughing -at me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently, as I got a bit more chirpy, and began -looking round again, I saw a little chap trudging -along ahead of me, splashing through the edge of the -sea where the sand was firmer. Something about him -seemed familiar, and as I overtook him he looked -round, gave a yelp of fright, and bolted, drawing a -</span><em class="italics">machete</em><span> out of his belt. It was the little brute, and -I dug my heels into the horse and was after him like -a shot. I simply rode him down—he couldn't run -fast in the loose sand—and at last turned, holding up -the </span><em class="italics">machete</em><span> to protect himself. I was jolly glad -that he'd lost his revolver, for I had lost mine -somewhere. I meant to kill him, and I saw that he knew -it, and that he couldn't be springy on his feet in the -sand, and struck at him for all I was worth with the -A.D.C.'s sword, meaning to beat down his guard and -get at his head, but the horse swerved when he saw -the sword flash, and the blade only came down on -the back of the hand which held the </span><em class="italics">machete</em><span> and -lopped the fingers clean off, the </span><em class="italics">machete</em><span> falling -down. I wrenched the horse round and went at him -again, and was just going to finish him when, I'm -sorry to say, something inside me wouldn't let me -kill him now that he couldn't defend himself, and, like -the ass I am,—how I cursed myself for it afterwards—I -jumped off and tried to stop the bleeding. He -thought me a fool, I know, and so I was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then I made him step out alongside me, and was -so angry with myself for being so soft-hearted that -I prodded him in the back when he wouldn't go -fast enough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the miserable brute, with his bleeding stumps, -was nearly dead with fright and could hardly put one -foot in front of another, so at last I swung him up -in front of me, and took him into San Fernando like -that, riding up to the </span><em class="italics">Cuartel de Infanteria</em><span>, where -a 'red-cross' flag was flying, and handing him over -to the people there, trying to explain that he was a -prisoner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My Christopher! the look he gave me when I went away!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I left my horse at the barracks, walked down to -the shore, stood on that jetty, and waved my arms -about till one of the </span><em class="italics">Hector's</em><span> signalmen spotted me, -and the skiff was sent in to take me off.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had just time to change into uniform, and get -a bit of grub in the gun-room, before the 'Forlorn -Hope,' who'd kept the 'Forenoon' watch and wanted -his lunch, sent down an indignant message to know -when I was going to relieve him, so up I went, -buckling on my sword-belt, and tramped up and down -the quarterdeck for four hours. I'm certain that I -could never have stopped awake had not Cousin -Bob, the 'Angel,' and young Marchant walked -alongside me and made me tell them all that had -happened ashore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When I went down below again, I showed the -black A.D.C.'s sword to Navarro, and told him, as -well as I could, all that had happened. He was -very depressed, chiefly because he was so fond of old -Zorilla, but didn't seem to worry in the least about -the black A.D.C., and made me keep the sword.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He shrugged his shoulders when I told him about -not killing that little ex-policeman, and said, 'Till he -die he always make revenge,' which made me think -myself more of an ass than ever for not having killed -him when I had the chance.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="san-fernando-attacked-from-the-sea"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">San Fernando attacked from the Sea</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Written by Captain Grattan, R.N.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Much to my relief, young Wilson came off in time -to keep his afternoon watch, none the worse for his -extremely exciting forty-eight hours' leave, and -directly he had told me that all fighting had ceased, -I sent Watson, my Fleet Surgeon, and my young -Surgeon, Clegg, ashore to help patch up the wounded, -giving them as many chaps as they wanted to -take to help them, and writing a polite note to -the New President's Secretary informing him of the -fact. I knew that every doctor would be wanted, -because the fighting had been very severe and all -that morning we had seen streams of wounded men -dragging themselves back from Marina along the -road by the sea. Already one Englishman, a man -named Seymour, had been brought off to the ship, -badly wounded, but he died as he was being hoisted -on board, so his friends took the body ashore again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I went ashore, myself, soon afterwards, and found -everybody at the Club. A cheery lot of chaps they -were, in spite of their pal's death, and when the little -Secretary, who had heard that I had come ashore and -followed me there, bowed himself in half and said, -'The President is much gratitude for the guns,' they -yelled with delight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The hydraulic machinery you brought from -Princes' Town,' they roared. 'We couldn't have -managed without it—just came in the nick of time,' -and then bundled my little friend into the next room. -They told me that the whole of General Zorilla's -artillery had been captured, and, before I went back to -the ship, drove me down to have a look at it—four -field-guns of French manufacture, four English -field-guns, and two 4.7's on field carriages.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Those English guns don't seem to have done -much work,' I suggested, screwing my eyeglass -in very hard, 'do they?' and they explained that -they'd been busy polishing them up ever since they'd -been brought in—that was why they looked so new.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It struck me that, now the insurgents—or I suppose -I should say Gerald Wilson—possessed all these guns -and had knocked Zorilla so hopelessly, they had only -to capture El Castellar to make themselves safe from -the Santa Cruz Navy. Once they had captured it, -the guns there would prevent any cruisers passing -through the narrow entrance, and they could sit still -and wait till that big cruiser, </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span>, -came along and made them masters of the sea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I told my friends, the Englishmen, about that -little 'accident' down at El Castellar with our 9.2, -and they were highly amused—everything seemed to -amuse them that day. A most cheery lot they were, -and when I wished them good-bye, before getting -into my boat, and asked them what they actually had -done with the hydraulic machinery I had brought -them, they were more amused than ever, and I left -them enjoying some little joke they had.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old 'Spats' sent me a wireless signal from the -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> next day to tell me that </span><em class="italics">La Buena -Presidente</em><span>, flying the black and green flag, had put -into Madeira to coal, but had been refused -permission. If that was the case, she'd have a good -deal of trouble to arrange for colliers to meet her -at sea, and it might be many weeks before she arrived -here.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Things went along remarkably peaceably for the -next few days, my two doctors were up to their necks -in work ashore, and hardly had time to come aboard -and ask after my gout, and we heard that Gerald -Wilson had driven Zorilla and his army into El -Castellar and was investing it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, one fine morning, along came the whole -of the Santa Cruz fleet, cruisers, gunboats, and -torpedo-boats, escorting half-a-dozen tramp-steamers -filled with troops.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They anchored close to El Castellar—we could -see their smoke plainly enough—and began -firing—shelling Wilson's trenches, we presumed. Of course -we all thought they'd do the natural thing—land -their troops there, drive off the insurgents, join hands -with all that was left of Zorilla's army—about two -thousand infantry—and come marching along the -seashore under cover of the ships' guns. This was -evidently what Wilson's brother thought, for we could -see his people streaming out from San Fernando, -along the road to Marina, towards El Castellan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, I suppose I'm a bit of a fool, but when I -was a youngster I should have been mad to have -missed anything like that, so I sent for the -Commander, and told him he could give leave to the -mids. and as many of the officers as he could spare. -Most of them were already crowding on the fore -bridge and up in the fore fire-control position, trying -to see the Santa Cruz ships through their telescopes, -but they clambered down in a twinkling, and cleared -ashore in less than half an hour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Don't get into mischief or there'll be the dickens -to pay,' I sang out to them, and, of course, -immediately afterwards regretted letting them go.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had been gone about two hours, and we'd -seen them driving or walking out towards El -Castellar, when the firing ceased, and it was reported -to me that the fleet and transports were standing -towards us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I went along to my spare cabin, which I had given -up to fat little Navarro (Zorilla's A.D.C.) whilst he -was aboard, with his broken thigh, and told him -what was happening. He was very excited, and -craned his neck out of his scuttle to see the advancing -ships.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In an hour they were abreast the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>, and -steamed slowly past. First their flagship, the -</span><em class="italics">Presidente Canilla</em><span>, then the still smaller cruiser, -</span><em class="italics">San Josef</em><span>, the old-fashioned torpedo gunboat, -</span><em class="italics">Salvador</em><span>, the rakish </span><em class="italics">Estremadura</em><span>, an armed steam -yacht, and the </span><em class="italics">Primero de Maie</em><span>, looking like a -Gosport ferry steamer. They were steaming at -about seven knots, but even at that speed the </span><em class="italics">Primero -de Maie</em><span> and the </span><em class="italics">Salvador</em><span> could not keep station. -Although I had a marine guard on the quarterdeck, -my fat Subaltern of Blue Marines—the Forlorn -Hope—flourishing his sword, and the bugler sounding an -Admiral's salute, as the flagship crawled past, she -took not the slightest notice of us, and we were all -intensely amused to see the officers on her fore bridge -gazing everywhere except in our direction, absolutely -pretending to ignore the fact that we were there at all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When you remember that barely seven weeks ago -my ship had towed the whole five of them out from -behind the breakwater of Los Angelos, it was all the -more funny.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They fired a few shells into the town as they went -past it, not more than three hundred yards from the -shore, and I wondered whether my humorous friends -at the Club were laughing quite so heartily. Half a -mile astern of them came the two old-fashioned French -torpedo-boats and the first of the transports, crowded -with blackamoors, with yellow and green stripes in -their hats, hooting and hissing as they passed close to -us, though their officers, standing up amidships, took -off their hats and bowed to make up for their men's -rudeness. I took off mine and swept it to the deck -in the most approved Spanish fashion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Three more little transports lumbered by chock-a-block -with troops, and the whole armada anchored -at the head of the bay, about two miles beyond the -town, and immediately began lowering their boats. -My Sub was terribly put out. 'I'm afraid they've -caught my brother napping this time, sir,' he said -to me. 'He must have rushed all his troops out -there early this morning, and look, sir, you can see -them hurrying back again. They'll be too late.' I -proceeded to give him a little lecture on the -advantages of possessing the 'Command of the Sea.' 'A -very neat illustration, my boy, right in front of your -eyes. Canilla moves his troops about by sea—dumps -them here and there, wherever he likes, whilst your -brother, uncertain where he's going to land 'em, -runs his chaps off their legs, backwards and forwards.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's jolly hard luck, sir,' he answered, not relishing -my short course of instruction on strategy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In half an hour we saw three or four boats crowded -with troops make for the shore, saw the black -ragamuffins jumping into the shallow water, scrambling -up the beach and lining the top of it, whilst more -boats came along from the transports. They went -to and fro so rapidly that, before the insurgents could -get back to San Fernando, they must have had nearly -a thousand men ashore. At last some insurgents -began to pour out of the town along the beach, but -directly they came in view, the cruisers began to fire -at them, their shells bursting right among them on -the beach, and the road, and among the trees behind -it. The insurgents scattered like smoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently we heard a good deal of rifle firing from -the same spot, and Wilson sang out, very excitedly, -'They're still there, sir; I can see them crawling -along the beach, and there are others in the woods. -The regulars are firing rifles at them now, sir.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, regular troops were being landed in -such numbers, and we could see that they had already -begun to push their way towards the town so -determinedly, that I thought there was every likelihood -of San Fernando being captured within an hour or -two, and wished to goodness I had not allowed all -those officers of mine to go ashore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had just sent for the Commander, to see what -could be done about recalling them, when suddenly -two loud reports of guns fired from somewhere behind -the town made me jump—they sounded so close, and -were so unexpected—and two spouts of water leapt -up among the anchored ships close under the bows -of the </span><em class="italics">Presidente Canilla</em><span>. I guessed at once that -they came from those two 4.7 guns I had seen ashore, -and smiled to see my Sub's face brighten. We all -looked through our telescopes again to see what -would happen. 'Bang! Bang!' the reports knocked -against our ears, the two guns had fired again, and -two more water-spouts sprang up just beyond the -flagship. The noise came from the back of the town, -but I'm hanged if I could see the guns, though I -searched the whole of that tree-covered ridge most -carefully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I turned my glass on the ships and saw that they -were all in confusion, their crews running about like -ants, and then a spurt of flame shot out from the -fo'c'stle of the flagship, and a large shell screamed -and shrieked over the town. The other cruisers -began firing too, their shells dropping all over the -place, but very seldom bursting. One struck a -patch of swamp, and sent the mud flying up in fine -style.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two shore guns fired again, and this time I -did see the thin brownish smoke for a second, but a -moment later couldn't see the guns themselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The flagship's got one aboard, sir!' several -people shouted. She was covered with smoke for -twenty or thirty seconds, but when it cleared away -we could not see what damage had been done, and -she still fired the big gun on her fo'c'stle and the -little ones on one side of her battery. She was -searching that ridge, trying to find those guns, but -was making execrable shooting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They're going back to their boats, sir!' Wilson -shouted, and turning my glass on the shore, I saw -the ragamuffins hurrying down as fast as they'd -scampered up half an hour ago, clustering at the -edge of the water, and wading out towards the boats. -I watched one boat-load pulling like blazes back to -its transport, and, just as it got alongside, these two -guns fired again and, simultaneously, I saw two -black gaps appear in the transport's side. One -spout of water sprang up on the lee side, so I knew -that one shell must have gone clean through her, -but the other evidently burst aboard, for smoke -poured up from amidships.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These transports didn't do much waiting for boats -then, they simply slipped their cables and got under -way, steaming farther out from the shore—the boats -pulling frantically after them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The cruisers, too, weighed their anchors and hauled -off in a hurry. In fact, they were in so much -confusion, and in such a hurry, that the </span><em class="italics">Estremadura</em><span>, -whilst trying to avoid being rammed by the flagship, -ran 'slap' into the little </span><em class="italics">Primero de Maie</em><span>, and when -they separated, we saw that her stem was twisted, and -that the little gunboat had a big gap in her side. -She suddenly fell over to starboard, and was so -evidently sinking that I sent the Commander away -in the picket-boat to help save life. By the time he'd -reached her, only her one mast and the top of her -funnel could be seen, and the water was thick with -little black heads.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The other ships left most of the 'save life' business -to the picket-boat, and steamed off, firing wildly all -the time, though as we who were near could not see -those two shore guns, </span><em class="italics">they</em><span> certainly couldn't, and -hadn't a chance of hitting them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The whole flotilla steamed very slowly along the -opposite shore, waiting there a little while for their -boats, but those two guns soon picked up the range -again, and quickened their retreat, actually having -the cheek to fire once or twice at them when the -</span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> was in the direct line of fire, the shells going -right over my ship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The cruisers and transports got out of range -presently, and again waited for those of their boats -which were still pulling desperately after them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One wretched boat, crowded with soldiers, had -taken a short cut past the town, and as it came -towards us, we saw that it was under a heavy rifle-fire -from the shore, bullet splashes jumping up all -round it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The men were pulling frantically, ran the boat -under our side—the side away from the town—where -they were safe—and stopped to take breath. I -recognised the officer standing in the stern-sheets—the -smart chap who had put old 'Spats' and myself into -our seats in Santa Cruz Cathedral. He recognised me -too, and, taking off his hat, sung out, '</span><em class="italics">Permis—sion, -Yuesencia</em><span>, to stay.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Tut! tut! boy! Stay as long as you like,' I -called down, and pointed to the gangway. 'Come -on board and have a drink.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He got his boat alongside, and was up the ladder -in a twinkling. I took him down below. He was -very excited, and kept shrugging his shoulders and -spreading out his hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'</span><em class="italics">Nous sommes trahis—trahis</em><span>! Before that we -depart from Los Angelos, ze guns of ze forts make -</span><em class="italics">plusieurs coups</em><span>—bang!—bang!—bang! We all up -jump—we ask </span><em class="italics">pourquoi</em><span> they do so? They tell us -General Zorilla has won </span><em class="italics">une grande bataille—los -insurrectos sont vaincus complètement—allez!—allez!—San -Fernando est le votre. Nous sommes trahis—trahis! -Nous arrivons à El Castellar</em><span>—what we find? -</span><em class="italics">El General? Oui! Mais l'armée?</em><span>—where is it? -</span><em class="italics">L'artillerie</em><span>—all gone—</span><em class="italics">peuf</em><span>! We are brave—we -advance—</span><em class="italics">et quoi</em><span>!' he shrugged his shoulders till I -thought he'd dislocate them. 'You see what -arrive—and they leave me en arrière—behind. </span><em class="italics">Peuf! Nous -sommes trahis!</em><span>'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I tried to soothe him, praised his great courage, -and sent the picket-boat, which had already brought -back the few people from the sunken gunboat who -had not got aboard their own ships, to tow him and -his boats down to the transports. I knew that the -insurgents would not fire on her when she was -protected by the steamboat's White Ensign, and as we -had helped them several times, we might as well do -the Government troops a good turn—once in a way. -Then I went ashore myself—the smoke of the -gallant armada smudging the opposite side of the -bay as it steamed back to El Castellar. I went ashore -in uniform, too—Perkins, my First Lieutenant, coming -with me, and the Comfort, my coxswain, following -at a respectful distance behind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was doing my best to work myself into a temper, -for I wanted to know what the dickens the Provisional -Government and Mr. Gerald Wilson meant by firing -over my ship, but I'd hardly got ashore, before -Mr. Gerald Wilson came galloping past—on his way back -along the coast—and I forgot about the shells over -my ship, and sung out, 'Beaten 'em again! Good -lad! Good lad!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I hope he didn't hear the "good lad" part,' I said -to Perkins, as Wilson galloped on. 'Afraid I wasn't -very angry with him.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I don't think you were,' he said, smiling. -I really don't think I was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We met hundreds of the insurgents pouring back -through the town, sweating like pigs, but wild with -enthusiasm at the defeat of the Government troops, -shouting '</span><em class="italics">Viva los Inglesas</em><span>' as they passed us on -their long march back to El Castellar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I don't see how we helped 'em to-day,' I said to -Perkins, who was hobbling along on his game leg -beside me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Nor do I, sir, but they seem jolly pleased.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I found de Costa and his blooming Provisional -Government—they were all bows and scrapes and -hand-spreading.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I want to know how you had the confounded -impertinence to fire over my ship?' was what I said to -the little Secretary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I don't know what he repeated, and for a minute -there was terrible consternation among them. They -all—theoretically—grovelled in the dust before me. -But then they began to smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'His Excellency the Presidente will take you to -see ze two gons,' the Secretary told me, and I think -there was a twinkle in his eye.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did take us, I, de Costa, and his Secretary -driving solemnly in one carriage, Perkins and the -rest of the Provisional Government crowding into -another. We rattled through the lanes, along which -Gerald Wilson had driven me, and stopped on top of -the ridge. Here we got out, and had to tramp -along it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You will see a sur-prise,' the Secretary bowed—I'm -certain that now there was a twinkle in his eye.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We tramped along for a hundred yards or so, -turned round a bit of a cocoa plantation, and there, -behind a slope, was the first gun, and sitting on the -top of one wheel was Bob Temple, and on the other, -young Sparks—the 'Angel' they called him—both as -black as my hat, swilling kola bitters,[#] whilst my -young clerk, Marchant, with his hand bound up -in a blood-stained handkerchief, and half-a-dozen -other mids. were lying on the slope, most of them -doing the same. Twenty or more ragamuffins were -standing by with baskets full of more bottles of kola, -and trays of pastry, and the ground was littered with -empty brass cylinder cases.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Kola bitters is a sweetish pink aerated water.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>So it was they who'd fired over the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>, was it! and -I wished to goodness that I could look impressive -and angry when I wanted to.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They'd sprung to attention when they saw me, and -the only thing I could say was, 'Tut! tut! disgraceful!—go -on board at once—your leave's stopped for -ever—tut! tut!' and as they picked up their coats and -obeyed me, I stalked away to the other gun, fifty -yards farther along.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, the rest of my beauties were there, but I'd -had time to fix my eyeglass, and had worked up a -fierce glare—I can glare much more successfully -behind an eyeglass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Bostock, my Gunner, was with them, too, in -plain clothes, looking very sheepish, and trying to -put one foot on the ground between two brass cylinders -which would roll together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You ought to have known better, Mr. Bostock,' I said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Beg you pardon, sir,' he muttered humbly, 'but -it was like this. I 'appened to stroll up 'ere, arter the -firing began—just to 'ave a look, sir—and I sees the -young gen'l'men 'aving a bit of a spree.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And you helped them—you ought to be ashamed -of yourself.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, sir, it was like this, sir, I didn't want the -young gen'l'men to disgrace 'emselves in front of all -this kittle cattle, so I just stays 'ere, sir, to see they -do the drill proper, sir.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, go aboard and report yourself to the -Commander. I'll see you to-morrow.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'</span><em class="italics">Viva los Inglesas! Viva la Marina Inglesa!</em><span>'[#] -yelled the ragamuffins, as I solemnly marched back -to the carriage, and drove back, trying to avoid the -eyes of de Costa and his Secretary, who were tittering -and grinning delightedly.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Hurrah for the English Navy.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'Hi, lad! Get in here,' I called to Marchant, as -we overtook the boys from the first gun. 'What's -the matter with your right hand?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Jammed it in the breech-block, sir. They let me -do cartridge number,' he answered proudly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Bad?' I asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'One finger's nearly off, I'm afraid, sir.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Tut! tut!' I said. 'You won't be much use for -writing, boy, not for some weeks.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'm afraid not, sir—I'm very sorry, sir.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dear, dear! If all this got known, I knew I -should get into a terrible row at the Admiralty—it was -very tiresome.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When I got aboard I sent for my steward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'How many can I ask to dinner to-night, please, Mobbs?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We might do eight, sir,' he allowed, after a time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Give my compliments to Mr. Bostock when he -comes aboard, and ask him to give me the pleasure of -his company at dinner to-night, the same to -Mr. Marchant and the five senior midshipmen when they -come aboard.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Very good, sir,' he said, much annoyed, 'but it -won't be what we call a 'igh-class dinner, sir.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Tut! tut! That doesn't matter, Mobbs. We'll -not grumble,' I told him, as he went away to consult -the cook, scratching his head in despair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We didn't grumble, and I made the Comfort stand -behind young Marchant and cut up his meat for him—it -was about the only job he was fit for—and we -finished the evening in poor little Navarro's cabin -trying to cheer him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was very down on his luck—poor little chap.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="how-we-fought-the-four-point-sevens"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">How We fought the Four Point Sevens</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Written by Midshipman Bob Temple</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>You </span><em class="italics">must</em><span> hear about that lark we had at San -Fernando—the day the Santa Cruz fleet steamed up -from El Castellar with the transports.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Angel and I were perched on top of the -for'ard fire-control position, watching the ships -shelling Cousin Gerald's troops at the entrance, near -the fort, but though we could hear the guns plainly -enough, and sometimes see their flashes, the ships -themselves only looked like black specks under a -cloud of smoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Montague, the Gunnery Lieutenant, who was -in the control position beneath us, kept on craning -his neck round the edge of the sloping iron plate -we were squatting on and singing out, 'Don't you -two midshipmen fall off! You'd probably kill the -Captain and make a nasty mess on the deck, so be -careful.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Right, sir,' we sang out, and jammed our feet -against one of the foremast backstays, and made -ourselves as snug as sparrows on a water-spout.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I think we should land on the shelter deck and -bounce off on top of the for'ard turret, don't you?' I -said, as my chum and I looked down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Wouldn't old "Bellows" (the Commander) be in -a rage if we splodged his best enamel paint!' he -said, and we jolly well knew that he'd roar out for -Billums, curse him, and tell him he didn't know how -to boss the 'Pigstye' (our name for the gun-room) -and keep discipline.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Try one of their caps,' the 'Angel' whispered, -'and see where it falls,' so I crouched over the edge -just under which several of the mids. in the control -position were crowded together, watching the ships, -and whanged off two of their caps, sending them -whizzing down on deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One fell right at old Bellows's feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I hadn't time to scramble back before he spotted -who'd done it, and roared for me to come down at -once. He was going to make me take them up again -when the Captain sang out that we could all go -ashore, and you should have seen all those chaps -swarming down the mast to get into plain clothes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Young Marchant wanted awfully badly to stick -to the 'Angel' and me when we did get on shore, -and we told him he could if he didn't talk. It was -jolly kind of us, and he was awfully grateful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There weren't any of Cousin Gerald's troops left -in the town by this time, we only saw a few -frightened-looking old men and women about, and not a horse -or a cart was to be had—not even a mule—for love -or money, so we had to start footing it, on our flat -feet, out along the sea road, towards the fighting. -On our way we passed the stable where General -Zorilla's black horse—the one Billums had -captured—was kept, and popped our heads in to see how he -was going on. He hadn't been sent back to Zorilla, -because that foot was still too lame to do any work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But long before we got to Marina and the Casino, -where Billums had fought that battle from the top -of the roof, we saw the fleet coming along the coast -towards us, and some of the insurgents coming back, -too, as fast as they could.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We guessed at once what would happen, and that -the regulars would be able to land long before enough -insurgents gathered to prevent them doing so. We -were jolly frightened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I wonder what's become of those two 4.7's we -helped put together?' the 'Angel' said, and we both -wondered, because they were the only guns Cousin -Gerald had which might be of any use in driving off -the fleet. We were hurrying back to the town with -Marchant and a lot more mids., when an Englishman -overtook us, so we called out and asked him. He -pointed to the ridge behind San Fernando and -galloped on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was awfully hot, and by the time we did get -into the streets and across the square we were -sweating like pigs, the leading ship was hardly a mile -behind us, and though we tried to hurry along those -lanes leading to the ridge, they were so crowded -with women and children carrying things and looking -back over their shoulders at the cruisers, that we -only pushed our way along very slowly. Then a -mule-cart came rattling along, the driver yelling out -and driving straight through the crowd as if he were -on a fire-engine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Come on! Let's run!' we shouted, and doubled -along behind the cart. At the top of the ridge it -stopped, half-a-dozen chaps, who were waiting there, -pounced on it, opened the back, and lugged out some -4.7 shells. Then we knew the guns couldn't be -far off.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Come on!' we shouted. 'Here's a go!' and each -got hold of a shell and tramped along after the -grinning natives. We found the guns just behind -the top of the ridge, dumped down our shells, and -doubled back for more, meeting young Marchant -staggering along with one under each arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We burst out laughing, because he'd shipped such -a funny, excited 'death or glory' look on his face. -'Go it, young Inkslinger!' we yelled, and rushed -along to the cart. Two fresh wagons had come -along with some more shells and cartridge-boxes, -more men too, and it was as good as a gun-room -'scrap.' Officers were shouting and yelling, the -soldiers were panting and running backwards and -forwards, and the </span><em class="italics">Hector's</em><span> gun-room jolly well took -a leading part, unlocking the cartridge-boxes, -slinging out the brass cylinders of cordite—the -beauties—and keeping things humming. Even some of the -women chipped in, dropping their bundles and -children, and carrying shells to the guns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ships were passing the town now—we could -just see them by popping our heads over the top of -the ridge—and they fired off a few rounds. We -heard the shells bursting in the town, not anywhere -near us, but the noise was enough for most of the -native soldiers, who dropped whatever they were -carrying and grovelled on the ground.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The rest of them were more plucky, and carried -on unloading the wagons, but by the time they were -empty, and all the ammunition had been carried -across to the guns, the fleet had anchored two miles -below us and past the town. Almost immediately -the troops began coming ashore from the transports, -and the insurgent officers worked themselves into a -tremendous state of excitement, gesticulating and -pointing down to the cruisers, and getting their two -guns' crews round the guns. We thought that they -would open fire in a minute, so climbed up the slope -between them, and lay there to watch what would -happen. What did happen was that a shell came -along and burst in some trees close by, making a -most beastly noise, and when we looked round, both -the guns' crews were squirming on their bellies. -'Why the dickens don't you open fire?' we yelled, -and Barton and Sarah Jane jumped down and began -kicking them. They pulled an officer out from under -one of the guns and shook him, singing out, 'Fire! -Fire! Bang! Bang!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'</span><em class="italics">Mucho malo! mucho malo!</em><span>' was all he could -jolly well say, he was shaking all over, and when -another shell came lolloping along over our heads, -he bolted under the gun again like a rabbit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'On the word "action," officers hide under their -guns,' the 'Angel' laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The troops were simply pouring ashore all this -time, and though we couldn't actually see them land, -on account of the trees near the sea, we were in an -awful funk, because hardly any of Cousin Gerald's -men had got back to the town yet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We tried to make those cowardly brutes fire, but -they wouldn't; they were afraid of the ships spotting -them, I suppose, or perhaps they were afraid of the -guns bursting or doing something like that.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Come on, you chaps,' the 'Angel' sang out, 'let's -show 'em the way. We'll do it ourselves.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We tumbled down from the slope, threw off our -coats, Barton rushed away to the second gun, with -Blotchy Smith, Sarah Jane, Young Lawson, and -four more, singing out that he bet us a sardine supper -in the gun-room that his gun made first hit, and -the 'Angel' and I, the Inkslinger and the rest, rolled -up our sleeves, pushed the natives out of the way, -and fell in behind the gun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oh! it was a lark if you like.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The 'Angel' stood on the trail and squinted through -the telescopic sight, I lugged open the breech, -somebody jammed in a shell, the Inkslinger pushed in a -brass cylinder after it, I whanged the breech-block -back with a bang, hung on to the firing lanyard, and -shouted out 'ready!' whilst the rest of them tried -to train the gun, the 'Angel' singing out all the time, -'right,' 'right a little,' 'stop, you idiots,' 'left.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Do let me fire the first shot,' the Clerk squeaked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Get out of it, Inkslinger!' I yelled. 'Get another -cylinder.' The 'Angel' sang out, 'stand by!' and -then 'Fire!' I gave the lanyard a tug, and off she -went, and off went Barton's gun as well. We cheered; -the grass and stuff flew up in front of the muzzle; -the gun jumped back and slid forward again, and we -dashed up the slope to see where the shots had gone. -We were just in time to see the water shoot up in -two great splashes, just short of their biggest ship, -and then we dashed at the gun again, slung the -breech open, hauled out the smoking cylinder, one -of the mids. shoved in another shell, and the -Ink-slinger, white with excitement, shoved in the cylinder. -I shut the breech too quickly, and caught his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Pull it out,' we yelled, and he did, just giving -a yelp, and wrapping his handkerchief round it. -Then I locked the breech and we fired again, -'Missed 'em—both of you,' a gruff voice sounded -behind us, and there was Mr. Bostock, the Gunner, -standing with his hands in his pockets, and looking -vexed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We jolly well thought that we'd have shells -coming all round us, but they didn't, though the -ships started easing off quickly enough, and their -shells banged about all over the town. The native -gun-crews had cleared out altogether—they were so -terrified.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You ain't doin' no credit to the Royal Navy,' -Mr. Bostock snorted, lighting his old pipe, when we'd -fired twice more and not hit anything; 'maybe you -never learned the drill.' This of course was meant -nastily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Come and help,' we sang out, and he did, showing -us where we were muddling things. It was the -training gear which bothered us, and he showed us -that we hadn't slacked it away enough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You can't do nothing afore you number off,' he -snorted again, and then took his pipe out of his -mouth, and roared, 'Gun's crew, fall out!' We -jumped back. 'Gun's crew, at'shun!' Then he gave -us our proper numbers. 'Gun's crew, number off! -'Ere, fall out, Mr. Marchant. Yer 'and's bleeding; -what 'ave yer bin and done with yer 'and?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It don't hurt, I can manage all right,' the ass -sang out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Who closed the breech?' he yelled.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 78%" id="figure-126"> -<span id="mr-bostock-takes-command"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="MR. BOSTOCK TAKES COMMAND" src="images/img-258.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">MR. BOSTOCK TAKES COMMAND</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I did,' I said; 'I closed it too quickly.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Silly ass, don't meddle; you takes too much on -yerself. Just give Mr. Marchant the firing lanyard, -and take on 'is job—and be nippy with 'em cylinders.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So I had to do the hard work, and wasn't the -Ink-slinger proud to do the actual firing!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Gun's crew, fall in!' Mr. Bostock roared again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We jumped to the gun and took up our proper -stations, and fired twice whilst he watched the result.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You ain't 'it nothin' yet,' he growled. 'Cease -firin'; you're a disgrace. Fall out.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went for the 'Angel' like anything about his -telescopic sight, put it right for him, and then stalked -off to Barton's gun, but he'd done everything properly, -so back he came. ''Ere! get down off there—I'll -take a shot,' and the 'Angel' didn't like it a little bit -when he slung him off the trail. We rather wished -he hadn't come and spoilt our fun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, that shot got the biggest cruiser amidships -somewhere, and we were so jolly pleased that we -didn't mind anything. The ships had found out -now that we were perched on top of the ridge, but -I'm certain they never spotted us, because nothing -came really close, and most of the shots went -overhead, and we heard them bursting amongst the trees -in the forest beyond the stream.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You bet your life we were full of buck when the -cruisers began to get under way, and then Mr. Bostock -told us to aim at the nearest transport, and, -after a few misses, we both hit her together and that -did the trick—it jolly well saved Cousin Gerald, and -San Fernando too—because the troops began -embarking again, though the ships went off so quickly -that a lot of the boats had to pull after them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We saw the </span><em class="italics">Hector's</em><span> picket-boat dashing to where -the little gunboat sank, and then you know exactly -what happened, the whole fleet cleared off, and we -followed them as best we could, till they got out of -range, or, rather, till we had no more ammunition -left. But long before that the proper guns' crews -and their officers came doubling back, and wanted to -carry on with the job, though we wouldn't let them, -and they stood behind us grinning and capering, -shouting '</span><em class="italics">Viva los Inglesas!</em><span>' whenever we nearly hit -a ship. Mr. Bostock didn't worry his head any more -after the transports had begun to move off, coiled up -close to Barton's gun and had a snooze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's done me a power of good,' he said—'just like -Ladysmith, only them Boers was always firin' back.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You can guess how dirty we were by this time, -and we were sweating like anything—our tongues -feeling as if they didn't belong to us, and we would -have given anything for a drink.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One of the natives was sucking at a bottle of kola, -and it looked so jolly appetising that the 'Angel' -bagged it, drank it, and then had a grand idea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He tapped the bottle—opened his mouth—pointed -to all of us (we all opened our mouths)—sang out -'</span><em class="italics">mucho bueno</em><span>'—and then pointed down to the town.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The officer whom we had hauled from under the -gun—he was brave enough now, and stood with his -feet wide apart, twirling his moustaches and scowling -fiercely—understood what my chum meant, and sent -all his men down to the town, whilst we went on with -their job, and in twenty minutes or so, just after we'd -fired the last shot, they came back with dozens of -bottles of kola and trays of buns and cakes of all sorts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>''Aving a stand easy?' Mr. Bostock sang out, -waking because the guns weren't firing, and he chipped -in, and we all had a grand feed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wasn't that kola bitters good, that's all! and in -the middle of it along came the Captain, the First -Lieutenant, the New President and his boss men and -fairly nabbed us. What made the Captain so angry -was that we'd fired once or twice right across the -</span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>. It was the 'Angel's' fault—he was so -excited.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We were jolly frightened, because he glared at us -from the eyeglass eye, although he couldn't keep the -other from twinkling, and he ordered us back to the -ship at once and stopped our leave for ever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The New President was smiling all over; I don't -think he'd smiled very often lately—he didn't look -as if he had—and then we tramped back down -the lane, giving young 'Inkslinger' a bit of help, -because his hand was awfully painful and he was as -pale as a ghost. They caught us up in their carriages, -and the Captain gave him a lift and took him aboard -in his own galley, a very great honour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He introduced me to the President—he called me -his Secretary,' he told us, full of buck, when we got -on board.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The 'Angel' and I rushed off to find Billums and -tell him what we'd done.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That makes up for that silly ass newspaper -"business" at Princes' Town,' he said, and was jolly -pleased. It made a lot of difference to the gun-room -when he was in a good temper, and he'd been beastly -ever since that forty-eight hours' leave.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The 'Angel' and I didn't dine with the Captain -that night, because we were so junior, and only the -five senior mids. and the Inkslinger were asked. We -were rather glad because we always felt terrified in -his cabin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next day we heard that the transports had gone off -in such a hurry that more than three hundred troops -were left behind, and had, of course, surrendered to -Cousin Gerald. The rest were landed down at El -Castellar, brought General Zorilla's army up to nearly -four thousand men, and in a couple of days he began -marching along the coast towards us again, the fleet -steaming along with him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cousin Gerald had to fall back, because he had -very little ammunition left and his men couldn't -stand the shells from the ships.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was fearfully worrying, because every day we -saw the cruisers and those two rotten torpedo-boats -getting nearer and nearer to Marina and that Casino -place which Billums had defended. With our -telescopes we could still see the black and green flag -on it very clearly if there was any breeze to blow -it out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then one horrid evening we saw that the ships -were shelling the Casino itself, and we were all frightfully -worried and afraid that, even now, after all we'd -done, General Zorilla would win.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Captain wouldn't let anybody go on shore, so -we got very little news; but that day two of the -Englishmen came off from the Club, and made us more -miserable than ever. They told us that Cousin Gerald -had hardly any ammunition left at all, and that the -New President and the Provisional Government were -packing up and standing by, to fly into the forest -again. They thought that the town would be captured -in a day or two, and wanted to be taken on board of -us, if that happened. They'd helped the insurgents -too much to stay there in safety when once the -Government troops came along. Everything was -just as bad as it could be, and we were awfully -miserable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I do believe that the fat little A.D.C. in the -Captain's spare cabin was sorry for Cousin Gerald. -We often went in to talk to him and cheer him up, -and he always had Billums's cigarette case near him, -and was awfully grateful for anything we did for him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'When the revolution finish, you two come and -stay with me—at Santa Cruz—I will show you the -bull-fight,' he often said, and, you bet, we promised -to go.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One morning the cruisers were only four miles -away, and a great yellow and green flag hung over -the Casino, so we knew that things were pretty black -for Cousin Gerald, who, for all that, must have been -hanging on like grim death, because all that day and -throughout the night rifle firing went on, and in the -dark we could see the shells bursting among the trees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We hardly slept at all, fearing that Cousin Gerald -would have to fall back on the town, and feeling -horrid because we'd used up all his 4.7 ammunition, -and he wouldn't be able to prevent the fleet shelling -him out of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The 'Angel' and I went up to the bridge before -daylight and found Billums there—he hadn't turned -in at all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'There's been a great deal of firing for the last -hour,' he said, his face all drawn and tired-looking, -'but it died away all of a sudden. I don't know what -to make of it—it didn't seem to get any nearer—I'm -very much afraid Gerald has surrendered or taken his -chaps inland.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He groaned, and we waited and waited—not a -sound coming from shore—till it became light enough -to see the land.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Our eyes ached with trying to look farther than we -could. Still there was no firing. This was strange, -because generally at daybreak there'd been any -amount of firing, as, in the dark, the people often got -very close to each other, or lost themselves, without -knowing it, and then fired point-blank at each other -when the light showed them up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What </span><em class="italics">has</em><span> happened?' Billums groaned again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then it was light enough for us to see where -Cousin Gerald's men had been last night—but there -weren't any ships near there—then presently, as we -saw farther and farther along, the Casino showed up -under the trees—still no ships near the shore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Look, sir! Look!' a Yeoman of Signals, who -was using the big telescope, sung out, and pulled -Billums across to it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Hurrah!' he shouted; 'there's a black and green -flag flying over it.' In a minute we could see it with -our own telescopes, and knew that Cousin Gerald -must have recaptured it during the night. Every one -'started cheering and shouting, and woke up the -Commander, who was furious, but then joined in -because the Captain came up with his greatcoat -over his pyjamas, and chuckled and cheered too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, we all stood there watching, seeing farther -and farther along the shore every minute—not a sign -of the ships—till we could actually see the high land -at the entrance, near El Castellar, with a great cloud -of smoke beyond it, out to sea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They've chucked it,' the Captain chuckled, and -we all burst out cheering. You should have seen us -all there—fat Dr. Watson in his pyjamas, the Forlorn -Hope and the Shadow in theirs—the Shadow shivering -and his teeth chattering,—Mr. Perkins as red as a -lobster, and even the Padré had come up in a -nightgown, and had been in such a hurry that he'd -forgotten his wig, and stood there as bald as a coot, -all except a little tuft of hair that stood up by itself, -and made him look like that advertisement of a -hair-restorer. Nearly every one was up on the bridge. -Then the church bells in San Fernando began -ringing like mad, and we could hear the people, -ashore, cheering.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wasn't it grand? though nobody could imagine -why the fleet had gone away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I expect the Provisional Government are unpacking -their bags,' the Captain said to Dr. Watson, as -they went below. 'They'll be asking for Recognition -again. They ought to get it this time.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We rushed off and told Billums what we had -heard, because we knew that if the Government at -home </span><em class="italics">did</em><span> recognise the Insurgent Government, Cousin -Gerald wouldn't be punished for chipping in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We did so hope they would.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="bad-news-for-gerald-wilson"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">Bad News for Gerald Wilson</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Written by Sub-Lieutenant William Wilson</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Later on in the morning, after all those things had -happened about which that young ass of a cousin of -mine has just told you, and after the Santa Cruz -Navy and the transports had disappeared, a boat -came pulling off to the ship with a note from old -Gerald.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'DEAR BILLUMS—The whole "caboodle" has -shoved off home—haven't an idea why, but they were -in such a hurry that they left behind them a grand -lot of ammunition—the very thing we wanted. Old -Zorilla has gone back without his black horse—never -mind. There's a report that a white flag is flying -over El Castellar. I'm just off to see. GERALD.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>I read it out to the gun-room. Wasn't it grand -for old Gerald? He'd just about swept the board.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I thought I'd show the letter to the Skipper, and -did so—he was jolly pleased.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Tut, tut, boy! I'll tell "Old Spats,"' he chuckled, -and sent for a signalman, but had hardly spoken -before one came tearing in with a 'wireless' message -from the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>—she was still at Princes' Town.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'</span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span> put into San Josef two days -ago, after carrying out target practice, and, under -shelter of Punta Rejos, coaled from a collier. She -is flying the insurgent flag.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Now we know, lad! That's the reason the Santa -Cruz fleet cleared off, lad! They've heard about her. -She'll be off the coast any day, and they're flying -back under the guns of Los Angelos.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He sent the signalman back with his message for -Captain Roger Hill.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Tut, tut, boy! I'll be able to ask your brother to -dinner in a few days, I hope—that is, if he isn't too -big a swell—makes me feel a worm—p'r'aps he won't -come—hope he will.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He pointed his telescope towards the shore. -'Look at those black and green flags flying over the -town. The Provisional Government are unpacking -their bags again, I expect, and if they demand Official -Recognition they'll probably get it.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I hope they will, sir,' I said, and went below. -You can guess how jolly cheerful I felt, and how I -blessed </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span> and the people who'd -coaled her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I knew how awfully happy the news would make -them at home, so I got permission to send a telegram -to tell them that Gerald was safe. It went to the -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> by 'wireless,' and I jolly well hoped that -some one on board her would pay for it to be -telegraphed to England. I did so wish that old -'Ginger' and I hadn't parted 'brass rags,' and that I -could have asked him to send it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That afternoon the Captain sent for me; he'd -shipped a sea-boot face, and I knew that something -had gone wrong.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I've just had that signal, lad,' he said, and -handed it to me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'From Captain, </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>, to ditto, </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>.—The -following signal has been received from the Admiralty: -"The cruiser known as </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span>, flying -the unrecognised flag of the insurgent Provisional -Government, left San Josef on the 22nd. She is to -be arrested as soon as possible, and handed over to -the Government at Santa Cruz. Force is to be -employed if necessary. Steps are to be taken to -inform the Government Authorities that she will not -be allowed to afford any assistance to the insurgents."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Identical orders have been received by the -Governor of Prince Rupert's Island from the Foreign -Office.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That's a bit of a knock-out for your brother, I'm -afraid,' he said sadly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I don't know what I answered, I'd never been so -miserable in my life; this simply turned everything -upside down again, and whatever Gerald did now, he -could never hope to win—things were too hopelessly -against him. The possession of </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span> -was the insurgents' only chance of success, and -without her they could do nothing. I knew that -Gerald was too proud to escape from the country, -and he'd probably end by being killed in some rotten -little action or shot against the wall, between those -saluting guns, in San Sebastian. The only bright -thing at all, on that miserable day, was a 'wireless' -from dear old Ginger. 'Have sent your telegram -home.' I wished he was here, I'd have banged him -on the chest, made up that silly row on the spot, and -we'd have talked over things.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Provisional Government did come aboard, -later on, smiling all over, the New President's -unhealthy face looking happy for the first time, and his -little Secretary bobbing about as if he were on springs. -They came to formally demand Recognition from the -Foreign Powers, and of course the Captain passed on -the demand, by 'wireless,' to the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> for her to -transmit to London.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Neither the Captain nor any one else had the heart -to tell them the bad news, so they all went ashore -as cheerful as crickets, fully expecting a favourable -reply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'll let you know as soon as the reply comes,' the -Captain sent his coxswain to tell me, and I waited all -the rest of that wretched day, wandering about like a -lost sheep. I couldn't even turn in at night, and -spent most of it on the bridge waiting for the reply -to be telephoned up from the wireless room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The answer came at last, and it seemed to blotch -out the last hope.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The existence of the Provisional Government -cannot be recognised.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Don't send it ashore till the morning,' the Skipper -muttered; 'bad news will keep. The Government -are evidently anxious to make up for their slackness -in allowing the insurgents to get hold of that ship -in English waters, and I'm afraid no Provisional -Government can expect to last long now that we -have to hand her over to the Santa Cruz people.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next morning we weighed and steamed slowly -down the bay of La Laguna, past the Casino where -the great fight had been, and anchored under El -Castellar. The green and yellow flag was still flying -over it, and they had made no attempt to cover up -the hole my for'ard 9.2 gun had made in the walls. -Every now and then we heard rifle shots, and saw -parties of the little insurgents running about among -the trees beneath the fort, so knew that Gerald was -still investing it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Captain sent for me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'm going ashore, boy! going to see the -Commandant of that fort and you can come with me. -Have to inform him about our Government's decision -and about </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span>. I don't like the -job, boy, that I don't.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In half an hour we were alongside a small jetty, -built below the fort, and had landed in white uniform, -helmets, and swords. An officer and a couple of -black soldiers came running down a zigzag path to -meet us, the officer saluting and bowing and the two -black chaps presenting arms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'</span><em class="italics">El Commandante?</em><span>' the Skipper said, shipping -his 'tin eye,' and pointing up to the fort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He will have much honour,' the officer bowed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Thank goodness some one knows a bit of English,' -I heard the Skipper mutter as we followed him. My -aunt! but it was hot, and the Skipper was sweating -like a bull as he walked up that blazing path. The -stones under our feet seemed to burn through the -soles of our boots, and the withered palm and cactus -leaves, stuck in between the rocks, looked as if they'd -never known what rain was or a breeze either—they -were covered with a thick white dust.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The officer didn't sweat, he looked as dry and -shrivelled as the leaves themselves, and as if he -hadn't had a drink or a square meal for weeks; his -uniform was dirty and torn. Across the flap of his -revolver holster there was a long furrow, made, -probably, by a bullet, and, to judge by its appearance, -within a few hours, but he gave you the impression -that he'd never known anything else except war and -forest fighting, and that one bullet, more or less, -didn't matter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Pretty swanky!' the Skipper grunted, taking off -his helmet and wiping his forehead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I no savvy,' the officer said, and then 'tumbled' -to it and smiled for a second, his yellow leathery face -looking as if it would crack.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As we reached the top we passed any number of -ox bones and skulls, and the smell was pretty -unpleasant. It looked as if they'd been thrown over -the walls. Then we passed inside the fort, through -a small iron door in the thickness of the wall, not that -part of the wall which our 9.2 had damaged, but -round a corner, and it struck me that we had been -purposely taken this way, so as not to see the hole.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As we entered, we found ourselves in a great -square red-tiled parade-ground. There were open -thatched sheds all round two sides of it, and a dozen -or more soldiers were hurriedly pouring out from -under them to form a guard of honour. A couple of -antiquated 'smooth bores' lay on the ground with -their trunnions smashed, in the centre was a -broken-down well, and the whole place was littered with -rubbish, old clothes, bones, and empty ammunition -boxes. We'd hardly had a look round when who -should come across, from some buildings on the far -side, but old Gerald, a grey-haired, sunburnt, and -bent-backed officer talking very fast to him. For a -second I wondered whether he was a prisoner, but -then I saw my friend the 'Gnome' and several others -of Gerald's officers. The 'Gnome' recognised me at -once, showed his white teeth, smiled, pointed up to a -flagstaff where that green and yellow flag hung, and -then to a roll of green and black bunting which he -was carrying under his arm, and I knew at once that -Gerald was there to accept the surrender of the place, -and that my bandy-legged chum was going presently -to hoist the insurgent flag.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Poor old Gerald! He looked so splendidly English, -in his white riding-gear and polo-hat, and so proud, -that I hated to meet him and tell him the awful news.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He introduced the Skipper, and then me, to the -weather-beaten Commandant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I no speak the English,' he said, bowing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We're just arranging the terms of surrender,' -Gerald told the Skipper. 'You've come in the nick -of time, because the Commandant won't trust himself -in de Costa's hands. They are old enemies, and I -cannot persuade him.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oh! Fancy having arrived at this very moment -to spoil all poor old Gerald's hopes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I saw the Skipper ship his 'sea-boot' face again, -and felt certain that he was wondering whether it was -possible to let things go on as they were, and not tell -the news.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He 'tut-tutted,' screwed in his eyeglass, took off -his helmet, and ran his fingers through his long hair, -as he always did when worried, and then burst out -with, 'Wilson, I've bad news for you—very sorry, lad, -very sorry; the fleet and the transports cleared out -because that cruiser of yours, </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span>, -may be here at any minute, and, very sorry, lad, but -I've got to capture her and give her up to the people -at Santa Cruz. Our Government won't recognise -the insurgent Provisional Government, and I'm -ordered to inform the Commandant. That's why -I'm here now.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I could hardly bear to look at Gerald.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He caught his breath for a moment, and his grand -jaw tightened the least little bit as he said slowly, -'We shall have to make a fresh start, Captain -Grattan.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What shall I do?' the Skipper asked him. 'You'd -better explain to the Commandant.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That struck me as being too much to ask of Gerald, -but he only tightened his jaws a little more, and began -jabbering away in Spanish to the Commandant, whose -tired, hungry-looking eyes opened out with pleasure -and cunning, so that I knew that my brother had -told him everything, and knew perfectly well that -there would be no surrender. It wouldn't help old -Gerald much now, even if he did get possession of -the fort, because that cruiser, whose coming we'd -been longing for so much and now so dreaded, would, -after we'd handed her over to the Santa Cruz Navy, -batter down its walls with the utmost ease.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If I'd been Gerald I'm hanged if I would have -told him the truth, and would have taken my chance -with the fort. Oh! wasn't it cruel luck?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The Commandant thanks you for the information,' -Gerald said, turning to the Skipper, 'and under the -new circumstances will not surrender El Castellar.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We saw the Commandant speak to the officer -who had met us, and he must have passed the news -round, for, in a minute or two, a couple of hundred -ragged half-starved soldiers surged out from under -those thatched huts, swarmed round us, and began -shouting out, '</span><em class="italics">Viva los Inglesas!' 'Viva la Marina -Inglesa!</em><span>' The brutes—they'd have cut our throats, -ten minutes ago, with the greatest pleasure. I saw -the 'Gnome's' hand go to his revolver, for they jolly -well looked as if they wanted to cut his throat and -the other officers'—he was bristling with anger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Come along, boy, we've done enough harm here,' -the Skipper said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Hadn't we better see my brother safely out of it -first, sir?' I suggested, for I didn't like the -Commandant's eyes or those treacherous-looking soldiers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Brain wave, lad! Good brain wave!—we will.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We did see him out, tramping along through the -main gateway, over a drawbridge, and took him -down to where his own little brown men clustered, -at the edge of the forest, waiting to see the black and -green flag hoisted above the fort they hated so much.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 74%" id="figure-127"> -<span id="it-was-the-most-miserable-walk-i-have-ever-had"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="It was the most miserable walk I have ever had" src="images/img-276.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">It was the most miserable walk I have ever had</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the most miserable walk I have ever had, -and I could have killed the men shouting '</span><em class="italics">Viva los -Inglesas!</em><span>' as they lined the wall and crowded through -the gateway behind us. I feel certain that, if we -hadn't been there, and the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> lying close inshore, -they'd have shot Gerald and his officers in the back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I told Gerald about my having cut the fingers off -that little ex-policeman, and implored him not to let -him go again, and before we got to the forest we -stopped to wish him good-bye. As I was going, he -said: 'I know Captain Pelayo, Billums, the Captain -of </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span>—he and old Zorilla are about -the only types of the old fighting Spaniard left in the -country—and he won't surrender his ship without -fighting. He's got good men aboard too.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We left old Gerald there, but I turned to watch -him and the 'Gnome' disappear into the gloomy -forest among their little men, before I followed the -Skipper—a big lump sticking in my throat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'd have asked your brother to come on board, -lad,' he said, 'hang the arresting part of it and that -warrant, and have taken him out of the country in -safety, but I know he wouldn't; he isn't the kind of -chap to leave his fellows in a hole.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was about right there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The same officer who had met us took us back, -and this time we were obliged to pass that hole our -9.2 had made. The pathway was almost hidden by -the blocks of stone and scattered bricks which had -been hurled down by the explosion, and we had to -pick our way very gingerly across them, so that it -was impossible not to notice the huge gap above us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The officer waved his hands and shrugged his -shoulders, 'We forget—you forget—all </span><em class="italics">mucho -bueno</em><span>.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Do you expect that ship to come here, sir?' I -asked him, as we pulled back to the ship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Don't know, lad, she </span><em class="italics">should</em><span> make for San -Fernando first, and I'm going to stay here to see -that she doesn't get there, but I've told "Old Spats" -to take the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> to Los Angelos, in case she -should attempt anything there.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I told him what Gerald had said to me about -Captain Pelayo, and asked him what he would do if -she did not stop when told to do so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Shall we have to fight her, sir?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I suppose we shall,' he answered, with a wink. -He looked as though he almost hoped she wouldn't -stop. So should I have done but for old Gerald.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'She'll be a pretty hard nut to tackle, sir; she's -got eight twelve-inch guns on a broadside.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, we've got four 9.2's and four 7.5's. Don't -bother about that, she won't know how to use them.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Still I couldn't help thinking that, unless we had -the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> to help us, it would be a pretty hard job.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Most of us on board thought so too, that is, if it -did come to a scrap, but the general opinion was that -her crew could not possibly be trained, would not be -able to fight her guns properly, and, if she couldn't -run away, would have to surrender.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Raynor, the Engineer Sub, who knew all about her, -pointed out that she was supposed to have three knots -more speed than the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>, so might be able to -escape.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Running away won't do her any good,' I said, -'or Gerald's people either.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, the possibility of having to fight made -every one of us in the gun-room, except myself, -extremely cheerful and excited, and when late in the -afternoon we began to 'clear ship for action' and -'prepare for battle,' you would have thought by the -way we all jumped round and got the ship in fighting -trim that we were expecting to pay off old scores on -some deadly enemy. It almost made me smile to -hear the mids. talking now. At the back of their -minds there was a feeling that perhaps the fight -might be a bit more even if the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> came along -to help, and they made quite pleasant remarks about -her and her hated gun-room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I know that I myself hoped that if it did come to a -'scrap,' old Ginger Hood would be there to share -the fun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cousin Bob must tell you what did actually happen.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="la-buena-presidente-fights"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics large">La Buena Presidente</em><span class="bold large"> fights</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Written by Midshipman Bob Temple</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>After we had had that ripping lark with those two -4.7's on shore, the insurgent President sent off a great -basket of fruit—oranges, grape-fruit, melons, and -bananas—every day whilst we remained off San -Fernando, so we were jolly sorry to get up anchor -and steam down to El Castellar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course we were very sorry for Cousin Gerald's -sake that we had to collar </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span>, but -thought it would be splendid fun if she showed fight, -and we all hoped that she'd come our way and not -give those beastly </span><em class="italics">Hercules'</em><span> mids. a chance. Then -we heard what Cousin Gerald had told Billums -about her Captain being such a fine chap, and -Raynor, the Engineer Sub, told us so much about -her, her armour and her big guns, that though we -didn't get exactly frightened, we rather felt that we'd -like the </span><em class="italics">Hercules'</em><span> mids. to chip in with us after all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A lot of our chaps thought that she'd simply haul -down her flag directly we signalled to her to do -so, but Mr. Bostock the Gunner shook his head. -He'd seen a revolution out in these parts, years and -years ago, and said we were wrong: 'She'll not -'aul her flag down whilst she's got men to fight the -guns and shovel coal in the bunkers.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He told us the story of the fight between the -</span><em class="italics">Shah</em><span> and the </span><em class="italics">Huascar</em><span>, which was just about the same -kind of show. There had been a revolution and the -</span><em class="italics">Huascar</em><span> had joined the insurgents down the coast. -She ran short of coal, and not being able to buy any, -took it by force out of an English steamer, so the -</span><em class="italics">Shah</em><span>—she was our flagship out there then—was -sent after her and they had a stand-up fight. The -</span><em class="italics">Shah</em><span> was a wooden ship with thin armour-plates -along the side, and the </span><em class="italics">Huascar</em><span> was an iron one -with turrets and very thick armour, so the English -ship found herself up against too big a mouthful and -got the worst of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I was Captain's coxswain aboard 'er,' Mr. Bostock -told us, but we sang out that he couldn't have been -more than twelve years old at the time. 'Believe -me or believe me not, young gen'l'men, I was -Captain's coxswain, and a nice kind gen'l'man he -was too. In the middle of the haction 'e sees a big -round shot from the turret-ship come bobbin' along -towards us—straight as a die. "Full speed astern," -'e says to me—"Full speed astern, Bostock,"—just -like that—not turnin' a 'air—and full speed astern we -went, and that shot just 'it the water under our bows. -Another time, about 'arf a 'our arterwards, we was -gettin' pretty tired of shootin' against 'er thick sides -and seein' our shot bouncing off 'er armour like peas, -'e sees another round shot comin' along. "That'll -just about 'it the Admiral's cabin," 'e says, "and -aggravate 'im," 'e says, "if we don't 'urry along a -bit. Full speed ahead, Bostock."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, 'e was a wonder, was the Captain, but the -leadin' seaman, who passed the order down to the -engine-room, wasn't very smart about it, and though -we did go full speed a-'ead, we didn't do it quick -enough, and that shot just took off the life-buoy -a-'angin' under our stern. Took it off without even -a-damagin' the gilt scroll we' ad there, but that 'ere -leadin' seaman 'ad 'is pay stopped till 'e'd paid for -it—an' serve 'im right.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Of course that was in the days of muzzle-loaders, -when the shot didn't go along as smartly as they -do now; but that Captain was a smart 'un—'e 'ad -judgment, 'e 'ad.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They must have been pretty sick of life at your -dodging their shots like that,' we said, laughing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Believe me or believe me not, but as true as I'm -a-sittin' in my cabin 'ere at this moment, they started -a-'easin' off two at a time, 'oping to catch us with one -of them.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What did the Skipper do then?' we asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What d'you think?' he snorted. 'There was -those two great black shell comin' racin' along -towards us, side by side, and 'e turns to me, as quiet -as a babe unborn, and 'e says: "'Ard a starb'ard"—that's -all, and our old tub turns round on 'er 'eel, -just faces them two shell and 'e shoved 'er nose in -</span><em class="italics">between</em><span> them an' they just splashed the men in the -batteries a bit. We can't do nothin' like that -nowadays, young gen'l'men—nothin' like that.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We shouldn't think we could,' we shouted, as he -seized his cap and ran up on deck, for the Commander -wanted him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We cleared for action that afternoon and just before -dark got under way and stood out into the open sea, -past El Castellan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This clearing for action made it certain that the -Captain was doubtful whether she'd surrender without -fighting, and of course made us all more excited than -ever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'If she does fight, I hope the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> will come -and help; she'll be a bit of a handful to tackle -single-handed,' Barton sang out, and Billums laughed -sarcastically and said, 'I thought you'd rather die -than let them help you,' which made us rather angry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The 'Angel' and I went in to have a yarn with -the fat little A.D.C. and hear what he thought about -it. He was very excited, and said that Captain -Pelayo would die sooner than surrender—he seemed -to know him very well. That night the Captain had -him taken down below in the 'tiller flat,'[#] so that he -would be out of danger if anything </span><em class="italics">did</em><span> happen, and -his being taken down there made us all feel a bit -creepy.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] A space right aft, below the water-line, -where the steering engine and -emergency hand-steering mechanism are situated.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Well, nothing happened all night; we simply -'mooned' about, backwards and forwards, near the -entrance, and </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span> must have been -hovering round, too, waiting till it was light enough -to see her way into La Laguna, for, as it grew light -enough, she was sighted not five miles away, steaming -leisurely in towards the entrance. Although she was -painted white she looked enormous.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Captain was called, and ran up on the fore -bridge in a twinkling, and sent 'Blotchy' Smith down -with a wireless message to the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>. He showed -it to me as he passed along the upper deck, '</span><em class="italics">La -Buena Presidente</em><span> is eight miles off El Castellar -steaming towards it. Shall prevent her entering. Come -south and prevent her escaping to sea.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'She'll be here in three hours and a half,' 'Blotchy' -shouted, as he ran aft, and I felt jolly glad, but rather -wished it was minutes instead of hours.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then 'General Quarters' was sounded, and we all -rushed to our stations. Mr. Bigge and I got through -the back of our 9.2 turret—the for'ard starboard one -just under the projecting end of the fore bridge—and -when we'd reported everything 'cleared away' and -had filled our 'ready' rack with more shells, we -climbed out of the sighting-hood and squatted on -top of the turret, whilst they trained it for'ard and -aft as far as it would go and raised and lowered the -long gun, to test the hydraulic machinery. It was a -perfectly lovely morning, the sea like glass, and the -</span><em class="italics">Hector's</em><span> bows seemed just to push the water aside, -not even breaking the surface. It was so jolly clear -that we could see thousands of jelly-fish—all the -colours of the rainbow—floating past under our -sponson. It really was grand, and we sat there and -watched the big ship coming slowly towards us with -the sun rising just behind her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That's bad for shooting, if it comes to a fight,' -Mr. Bigge said; 'it will dazzle the "Gunlayer's" eyes.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I don't expect it will; do you, sir?' I asked -nervously, because she was so huge, and I knew -that she had so much more powerful guns than we -had, that, now it came to the pinch, I was in a funk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Don't know,' he answered; 'we'll know in ten -minutes.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The signalmen began running about the bridge -above us, we heard the Chief Yeoman's voice saying -'Hoist,' and up went three flags and the white -international code pendant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What's that mean, sir?' I asked, as the halyards -were jerked to shake out the flags.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'"Stop engines," I think,' Mr. Bigge said, squinting -through his telescope to see if she took any notice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Something did go fluttering to her masthead—she -only had one mast, a tripod one, amidships—but it -was the black and green flag, and a huge one at -that.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'She's not going to stop,' Mr. Bigge muttered. -'The Sub was right after all. We'll have to fight her.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I did feel so uncomfortable and horrid 'inside,' and -looked to see that the sighting-hood was open so that -I could crawl down into the turret again—quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every one was simply gazing at the big ship, -wondering what she would do, and you couldn't hear -a sound, except the hissing noise of some steam, -escaping from a leaky joint near the syren fog-horn -up on the foremost funnel. Just aft of our turret was -the first 7.5 turret, and the 'Forlorn Hope'—just a -little pale—was leaning against the side of it looking -at the ship—I was jolly glad that I wasn't so fat, I felt -much too big already—and the 'Shadow' slipped out -of the next 7.5 turret to yarn with him and then ran -back again and shut the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. Clegg came cheerily along from under the -fo'c'stle, and stopped near our turret to look at -her too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He sang out asking if we had our 'first aid' bag, -and I put my head down the sighting-hood to find out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Yes, sir!' I shouted down—it did me good to shout.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Just seeing that all our things are rigged,' he said, -smiling at Mr. Bigge, looking along at the sunrise -for a moment with a funny expression in his face -before he dived down below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He may not see it again,' Mr. Bigge said, and I -understood and felt shivery all over.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Inside my turret I could hear the Gunlayer, who -had his eye to the telescopic sight, talking to the -Sight Setter. 'Now don't you go a-playing none of -your tricks, Bill. Tie a bit of spun yarn round your -right thumb and you'll know it from your left, and -won't be playing the ass with the deflection as you -did at the battle practice—a-spoiling the whole ship's -shooting.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Raynor, the Engineer Sub, came along too, and -went down into our turret to see if the hydraulic -machinery was all right. He climbed out of the -sighting-hood in a few minutes, borrowed Mr. Bigge's -telescope to have a look at the white ship, told us that -everything was working well, and climbed down on deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, up in the for'ard fire-control position—high -up the mast—I heard the 'Angel's' voice reading off -the ranges on the long range finder, 'eight thousand -nine fifty—eight thousand nine hundred—eight -thousand eight fifty'—and I popped my head down -inside to see if </span><em class="italics">our</em><span> range indicator was working -properly. It was, and the figures were slipping -round all right. I looked up again, but he had his -eyes glued to the range finder and didn't see me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marchant, the Inkslinger, leaned out of the -'control' position, caught sight of me, and waved his -bandaged hand—he was beaming all over.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Montague, too, looked down and sang out to -the fore bridge for some of the signal halyards to be -hauled aside as they were fouling the range finder, -and I could just see the feet of Pearson, the Assistant -Paymaster, who was sitting, straddle-legs, on the top -of it, doing 'spotting officer'—to spot whether shots -fell short or over. I was jolly glad that I wasn't up -there, and that, if it did come to a fight, I had six -inches of armour to get behind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ship was so close now that we could see her -huge guns, but she didn't seem to have cleared for -action.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Fire a port twelve-pounder!' we heard the -Captain say; 'they may not have seen the signal.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Men began running about, the Commander -bellowed at them, and the little gun fired almost -immediately—to leeward—away from </span><em class="italics">La Buena -Presidente</em><span>—and we watched to see if that would -have any effect.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It had. A long string of flags went jerking up -the tripod mast and the international code pendant -was hoisted to her yard-arm. We heard the Chief -Yeoman scurrying into the chart-house to find the -signal-book, and in a minute the Captain called out -to the Commander, 'They refuse to stop. Keep my -signal flying and fire the foremost 9.2 across her -bows.' Billums was in charge of that turret.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All this time the 'Angel' had been singing out -the range. It had got down to 7250 yards, and we -were turning a little in towards the entrance, to -prevent the ship closing too rapidly. Then round -slewed Billums's long gun over the starboard bow, -pointing up in the air.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Captain sang down to him to fire as soon as -he liked, and almost before he'd said it, off went the -gun with a roar—back it flew—my cap went flying -overboard, and the brown cordite smoke came -stinging into my eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Why the dickens don't you stick your cap on -properly?' Mr. Bigge snarled. 'You aren't a -blooming infant,' and we watched to see where the -shell would fall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It seemed an awfully long time, and then there was -a shout of 'There it is!' all along the ship, and up -spouted the water a couple of cables ahead of the -white ship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Montague shouted down to know what range -Billums actually had on his sights, so as to see -whether the range finder was working properly or -not, and then there was another shout of 'She's -turning!' and I was never so relieved in my life -as to see her put her helm over and run away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Captain roared for the Engineer Commander, -and sang out, 'Tell the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> she's steaming -seaward.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The morning seemed to be quite lovely again, and -we headed after her, smoke pouring out of all our -funnels, and that leaky steam joint hissing more and -more. Our bows began to break the water now, and -the jelly-fish streamed past like a flash.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span> was covered with smoke too, -and seemed to be in a jolly hurry to escape.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'She isn't going to fight after all,' I laughed, -feeling awfully pleased.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Don't know—they're getting down her rails and -awnings,' Mr. Bigge said, looking through his glass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So they were. We could see the men swarming -on her quarterdeck and the awning coming off her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I felt all shivery again, and heard the Gunlayer sing -out from inside the turret, 'The longer they take -about it the farther the sun'll be up, and it won't get -in my bloomin' eyes so much.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It seems a shame to go killing people a morning -like this, doesn't it?' Mr. Bigge muttered to himself, -and I jolly well agreed with him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We were buzzing along finely now, and could feel -the ship shaking and throbbing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The 'Angel' was still at the range finder, and our -indicator showed 6250, when suddenly the big ship -turned again—she was going at a tremendous -speed—and—oh, it made my backbone feel cold—made -straight for the entrance and El Castellan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We still had our signal 'Stop Engines' flying, -but there wasn't the least doubt now that she was -simply going to rush past us. Clatter, clatter, came -the signalmen down from the fore bridge to take -shelter, everybody disappeared into their turrets, -popping down the sighting-hoods like rabbits, the -Captain and the Navigator came down and -clambered through the top of the conning-tower, -the 'Forlorn Hope,' with a grimace at me, squeezed -himself into his turret and closed the armoured door, -and, with my heart in my mouth, I wriggled down -into mine.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 73%" id="figure-128"> -<span id="the-big-ship-turned-again"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="The big ship turned again" src="images/img-291.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">The big ship turned again</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Aren't you coming, sir?' I asked Mr. Bigge, -but he shook his head. I felt a little safer inside -there, and stood watching the range indicator. It was -simply altering every few seconds—5400—5300—5200—there -was no time to show the fifties.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Bigge sang out for me—he wanted to know -something—and I popped my head out again and -couldn't see the ship—she had slanted away a little, -to pass along our port side—but I just caught sight of -Billums sitting on the back part of the top of his -turret, on the fo'c'stle, with his knees drawn up to -his chin, resting his field-glasses on them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You couldn't hear a sound anywhere—except that -escaping steam—and then the gong inside the turret -began sounding the 'stand by'—the next time it -sounded it would mean we had to fire. The able -seaman at the telephone sang out, 'The port battery's -just got the order to fire, sir,' I almost fell down -inside the turret again, and then the whole of our -guns that could bear on the port beam fired, and -some of them had time to fire again before we heard -the roaring 'clap' and the crash of the shells bursting -against the big ship's side. The range indicator -showed 3200 yards, and we couldn't miss her very -easily at so short a distance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was passing down our port side and going in -the opposite direction, so that we had to circle round -to follow her, and I knew that the starboard turrets -would then come into action.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Bigge shouted down that we were turning to -starboard, the bell at the telephone from the conning-tower -rang, the able seaman jammed his ear against -it, sang out, 'Starboard guns, stand by, sir!' and -the gun's crew jumped to their proper stations.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Remember your right hand, Bill!' the Gunlayer -called out, and wedged his eye into the indiarubber -sleeve of the telescopic sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Train aft,' Mr. Bigge shouted down through the -sighting-hood, and round we slewed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The gun's crew was ready, the gun loaded, and -the next shell lying in the loading tray, so I had -nothing to do except to see that the Sight Setter kept -the same range on his sights as the indicator showed, -and that everything was done properly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We're coming "on,"' Mr. Bigge sang down. 'Stand by!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Gunlayer jerked out, 'I've got her, sir'—he'd -spotted her through his telescope—and I just had -the pluck to pop my head out for a second and -caught sight of the big white ship tearing across our -stern as we swung round, and then the fire-gong -clanged loudly and I slipped back again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a roar and a shake, men jumped about, -banging and clattering—I heard the ammunition -hoist rattle-rattle up to the gun, and the breech-block -snap 'to,' and off she went again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We're hitting her!' Mr. Bigge sang out. 'Aim -under her mast and bridge.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'She's going to fire,' he shouted, a second later, -and almost before he'd said it, there was a most -awful roar, like a thunder-clap, and then the most -appalling noise and hot glare—the whole ship shook -and seemed to be tearing in pieces. The Gunlayer -was cursing that he couldn't see out of his telescope, -and wedged his arm along it to wipe the glass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That's better,' he growled, and fired again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The range indicator, all this time, had been showing -bigger ranges, and it had just showed—3650—when -that same awful thunder-clap sounded a second time, -and then the noise and the hot glare; the ship seemed -to be breaking in pieces again, things came crashing -down on deck, and she trembled as if she'd run -aground. Something had struck her, somewhere -close below us; a huge flame shot up just in front -of the gun port, I was banged against the side, the -Gunlayer came tumbling down from his sighting -platform, and we could hardly breathe. I felt quite -silly, too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Gunlayer scrambled up again and fired, but -we didn't know whether he was hitting her, because -she was covered with smoke and almost hidden by -the spray and the smoke of shells which burst short. -I began to get my breath back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The range indicator ain't working, sir!' the -Sight Setter called out. 'It ain't altered for the last -three minutes.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I jumped across. It still showed—3650—and I -tapped it to see if it had jammed, but it didn't move. -Just as I was going to tell Mr. Bigge, </span><em class="italics">La Buena -Presidente</em><span> fired again, there were those awful noises, -and something came crashing down on top of our -turret, bulging in the roof.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Can't move her, sir, the turret's jammed,' the -Gunlayer yelled. He sprang up through the -sighting-hood—something red and slippery was dripping -down through the holes in the top of the turret—and -I followed him. Mr. Bigge wasn't there, but the -top was covered with the twisted rails and smoking -burning planks of the projecting end of the bridge—I -knew it was the bridge because the stump of the -semaphore was still fixed to a rail.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I didn't really realise anything or know quite what -I was doing. I burnt my hands trying to pull the -wreckage away, but we couldn't move it, and I had -to keep my eyes down so as not to see the big ship -firing—I couldn't have stayed there if I had. I knew -that Mr. Bigge must have been killed, and that I -was now in charge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then that awful thunder-clap sounded again, there -was a terrific crash behind us, a huge mass of iron -crashed down on the deck, and one of the men said -quite calmly, 'The foremost funnel's gone, sir,' but -I dare not look—I was too terrified.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We couldn't move that wreckage off the fore -bridge, so I ordered the men inside the turret, and -then tried to ring up the conning-tower, but couldn't -make the telephone work. I tried the telephone to -the transmitting station, the room below the -water-line, at the foot of the foremast, which passed all -messages to us from the fire-control position, on the -mast above it, and I heard the Fleet Paymaster's -voice at the other end. 'Please tell the Captain——' I'd -just got as far as that when the ship shook and -trembled again, and we could feel something crashing -and bursting inside her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I tried the telephone once more, but it wouldn't -work at all. I knew that I ought to tell the Captain -and ask what should be done, so I bit my lips and -crept out of the turret, down the rails at the back, -and jumped down on deck, but it was all covered -with burning bits of wood and twisted and torn, -almost red-hot, iron plates. Smoke and steam was -pouring up from where the foremost funnel had been, -and flames from the boiler furnaces were licking the -grey paint off, but the rest of our guns, on the -starboard side, were still firing very fast.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 78%" id="figure-129"> -<span id="the-effect-of-the-shell"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="THE EFFECT OF THE SHELL" src="images/img-296.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">THE EFFECT OF THE SHELL</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>I kept my eyes down and dashed through the -smoke to try and get under the fo'c'stle and nearly -fell through a hole in the deck. The gangway was -blocked up with wreckage. Several bodies lay -underneath it, and I saw one arm sticking out, a -signalman's badge on the sleeve. I ran back and -had to crawl under the fallen funnel, through a gap -where it had crumpled up, wondering when that -next thunder-clap would come and kill me. I crawled -under it, noticed that the 7.5 turret next to ours -seemed out of place and the deck very uneven, saw -the Shadow's face in the sighting-hood of the second -7.5 turret just as his gun fired, and darted between -the funnel casings to the port side. I had to go -quickly because the paint was burning on the iron -plates on each side of me. That thunder-clap seemed -to be awfully long in coming, and I thought that -perhaps, after all, we'd beaten the huge ship and -scrambled for'ard, over more smoking wreckage, -towards the fo'c'stle, 'Blotchy' Smith looking out -from the port for'ard 9.2 turret, very white in the -face, and yelling to know how things were going.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I couldn't stop to speak to him because of the -smoke pouring up from the foremost funnel hatchway, -and I just put my sleeve in front of my eyes and my -mouth and darted through it, under the fo'c'stle. -Even then I couldn't get to the conning-tower, -where the Captain was, because the whole of the -shelter deck was crumpled up like paper, but the -port door leading on to the fo'c'stle had been blown -off, and just as I looked through it, the for'ard 9.2 -fo'c'stle gun fired. I heard Billums shout, 'Hit!' -and there he was still perched on top of the turret, -his head bare, and his yellow hair showing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We're jammed! Mr. Bigge's killed! I want to -tell the Captain,' I shouted, but he couldn't hear what -I'd said, and only pointed over the starboard quarter. -He put his hands to his mouth and shouted, 'The -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oh! wasn't I glad, and was just going to try -and climb up to the conning-tower, when I saw -O'Leary put his head out of the sighting-hood and -speak to Billums. I heard Billums shout, 'Cease -fire.' Then the Commander came scrambling along -past me with some men, a bugler sounded 'Collision -Quarters,' and I noticed, for the first time, that we -had a tremendous list to starboard. The Commander -bellowed at me to make myself useful, and sent me -down below with a message to the First Lieutenant, -so I hadn't time to ask any one what was the matter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I could hardly find my way along the lower deck. -Everything was wrecked, the mess tables and lockers -were burning furiously, and I could hardly see for -smoke, which poured out through great gaps in the -port side. I managed to find one of the hatchways -open—the cover must have been blown off—and got -down into the 'bag flats,'[#] but it was worse here, -pitch-dark, and water, up to my knees, was rolling -from side to side. There was a sickening smell there -too. As I groped my way along to try and find the -for'ard hatchway leading down to the ammunition -passages, where the First Lieutenant was, I saw a -light and heard the Fleet Paymaster's voice. He -was looking out of the fore transmitting room, and -some candles were burning inside it. 'We haven't -been able to make any one hear for the last quarter -of an hour,' he said. 'What's gone wrong?'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Narrow spaces, below the water-line and -behind the upper coal-bunkers, -where the men's bags are stowed.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'I don't know, sir. The ship has escaped, I think; -Mr. Bigge's killed.' Mr. Perkins came along, splashing -through the water, so I gave him the message -and climbed up on deck again. I met Billums under -the shelter deck—or rather what had been the shelter -deck—and he told me that some armour-plates had -been smashed in below the water-line—that was why -we were heeling over so badly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Two shell struck almost together, drove a plate -clean through the side, and killed every one in the -after bag flats—Dr. Clegg, the Padré, and the whole -of the 'stretcher party' aft there.' He was very sad.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Is the "Angel" all right?' I asked, feeling -perfectly miserable. He put his hand on my shoulder -and led me back out on the fo'c'stle again. I knew -at once that my chum was killed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Be brave, Bob; look up!' he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I looked; oh! it was awful, the topmast and the -control-position had disappeared, and there wasn't -anything left there, except a few bits of wire hanging -down, and a copper voice-pipe sticking out by itself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'One shell in that second broadside burst against -it, Bob,' and Billums put his hand on my shoulder, -very gently, to steady me; 'it must have been all -over in a second. They felt no pain.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I simply buried my face in his monkey-jacket and -sobbed and sobbed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Pull yourself together, Bob,' he whispered, -'remember that you are an officer. They felt no pain.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I heard the Commander bellow at Billums; he -roared my name too and cursed me, sending me -down to the Engineer Commander for as many -stokers as he could spare.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was too absolutely frozen to care about anything, -and when I met 'Blotchy' Smith, half blubbing, and -he told me that Barton had been killed in the after -turret and the Forlorn Hope in his, I hardly heard -what he said—I felt quite silly and 'wobbly' in my head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I really could not tell you what happened for the -next five hours—I was so dazed and numbed—but I -found myself going down into a boat with a lot more -of our mids., and we crawled up a ladder on board the -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>. We huddled up in a corner of her -gun-room, and they brought us something to eat, but -it nearly made me sick to look at it. The </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> -mids. let us alone and didn't ask any questions, and -for hours we sat there, covered with dirt and smoke, -till some one led us away and made us clean ourselves. -Some one lent me a pair of pyjamas, and I crawled -into a hammock, but daren't shut my eyes, and had -to get out and sit close to a light. I don't know how -long I sat there, but one of the </span><em class="italics">Hercules'</em><span> doctors -found me, and lifted me back into my hammock. He -injected something into my arm, and was going away, -but I clutched his sleeve—I couldn't be left -alone—and then cried till I thought I should die.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-santa-cruz-fleet-again"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Santa Cruz Fleet again</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Written by Sub-Lieutenant William Wilson, R.N.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>For days after that awful morning we seemed half -stunned. We had left El Castellar the night before, -as smart a ship and as cheery a lot of officers and -men as there were in the Navy, and fifteen minutes -after </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span> fired her first broadside -the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> was a complete wreck above the waterline, -and was so badly holed beneath it that she only -managed with difficulty to keep herself afloat and -crawl back into shallow water. Fortunately one -anchor and cable had not been destroyed, and we -anchored under El Castellar, the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> anchoring -as close as possible in case it should become necessary -for us to abandon the ship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She sent working parties aboard at once, and we -eventually managed to make the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> fairly -water-tight, pump her dry, and get her on an even keel -again. But that was not until the third day, and -those three days and nights have always been like a -horrible nightmare.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We could not get away from things—the stump -of the foretopmast and that single copper voice-pipe, -sticking out where the fore control had been, to -remind us that Montague, Pearson the A.P., Marchant -the cheery little Clerk, and the 'Angel' had simply -disappeared—blown to pieces; the stump of the after -9.2, inside the turret of which Barton had been killed, -and the wreckage of the bridge, on top of the -starboard foremost turret, which had crushed poor -Bigge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was two days before it was possible to cut a way -into the wreck of the Forlorn Hope's turret and get -out what remained of him and his crew, and really I -don't know what we should have done had we not -had to work, hour after hour, day after day, trying -to make the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> seaworthy, and ready to tackle -</span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span> again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Practically everything above the level of the armour -had been either completely destroyed, or so crumpled -and twisted, as to be almost unrecognisable. We had -not one single boat left, and the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> had to lend -us two of theirs. The foremost funnel had fallen -during the action, and the next one was so damaged -that it fell overboard that same night. The fo'c'stle -mess-decks, the sick-bay, the whole of the lower -deck, the ward-room, and nearly all the upper cabins -were now simply great blackened spaces, filled with -tangled and crumpled iron bulkheads, deck plates -and beams, from which every vestige of paint had -been burnt off.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Our galleys had been completely destroyed, and it -was impossible to do any cooking, so the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> -cooked food for us and sent it on board till we could -rig up temporary fittings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of Dr. Clegg and the poor little Padré, or of their -stretcher party, not a trace remained. We did find -a foot in the wreckage of the after magazine cooling-room, -but we could not tell to whom it belonged, and -it was buried at sea by the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> with the remains -of Barton, the Forlorn Hope, and what we thought -were thirty-two bodies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Twenty-four men were missing besides these, and -we sent forty-one wounded on board the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> to -be treated there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To think that—— No! It's no use thinking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Strangely enough the Captain's quarters had not -been damaged, nor had the gun-room and the -gun-room flat; and when I first went below from that -scene of desolation above to where the midshipmen's -chests stood in four rows, their hammocks slung -above them, and their blankets hanging down untidily, -just as they had been left when 'General Quarters' -had sounded, and the gun-room clock was still ticking -cheerfully, I almost imagined that I </span><em class="italics">had</em><span> woke from -some horrible dream.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I am thankful to say that the mids. were all sent -on board the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> to get them away from the -ship, and also to let the ward-room officers come down -into the gun-room. Their chests were sent after them -the following day, and it was the saddest thing in -the world to see the four belonging to Barton, the -'Angel,' the Assistant Paymaster, and Marchant -standing alone by themselves. We could not stand -the sight of them, and Mr. Perkins had them taken -away somewhere.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The only bright spot in those dreary days was that -Ginger and I told each other that we were silly fools, -and made up our stupid quarrel. His mids., too, had -behaved so jolly well to mine that there was every -chance of them also making friends.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The fact that </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span> had escaped -did not even give me any pleasure, for Gerald's sake, -because the Skipper was determined to sink her as -soon as he could steam to San Fernando, off which -she had anchored, and whatever she did, and however -she damaged us above the water-line, she could not, -in the narrow Laguna, escape our torpedoes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had a long yarn with my chum Navarro, the fat -little A.D.C. Strangely enough he seemed quite -pleased that the insurgent ship had escaped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It was a great fight,' he said, his eyes glistening, -'for Santa Cruz—the Santa Cruz Navy have much -honour to beat the great English ship.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But if we'd captured or sunk her the Santa Cruz -fleet would have been safe,' I said, wondering why -he was not sorry that she had got away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He shrugged his shoulders: 'Captain Pelayo is the -best officer in the Navy of Santa Cruz—all men on -board her belong to Santa Cruz Navy—it has much -honour to Santa Cruz.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nobody was allowed ashore, and no boats came -off to the ship, so I never heard from Gerald; but the -green and black flag now flew over El Castellar, and -we knew that the Commandant had at last surrendered. -I thought of the 'Gnome' marching across that dirty -red parade-ground with the black and green bundle -under his arm, and hoped that Gerald had allowed -him to hoist it himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a week there was no danger of our sinking, and -the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> went across to Princes' Town to land the -wounded at the Colonial Hospital, and to telegraph -home news of the engagement and request orders. -I got Ginger to send a telegram to the pater to tell -him that Bob and I were all right, although, as a -matter of fact, I was very worried about my cousin. -He had not 'bucked up' in the least. Ginger told -me that he hardly spoke a word to any one, and -moped all day, so I very much hoped that the change -to Princes' Town, and getting away from the sight of -the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> and of that broken mast, would do him good.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whilst the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> was away the Skipper got -out a kedge-anchor astern, to keep us 'broadside on' -to the narrow entrance, in case </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span> -tried to put to sea, and each night we swept 'La -Laguna' with our searchlights, and stood ready to -fire our torpedoes. However, nothing happened, and -when the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> returned with orders that </span><em class="italics">La Buena -Presidente</em><span> was to be sunk at all costs, if she would -not surrender, we almost immediately weighed anchor -and steamed towards San Fernando.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Roger Hill wanted to lead the way in the -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>—as we were crippled—but the Skipper -would not hear of this at any price, so with our -mutilated foremast, wrecked bridge and upper works, -and our two remaining funnels we started up the bay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All our big guns, except the after 9.2 and two of -the 7.5's, were fit for action, Mr. Perkins took charge -in the after fire-control position, and I do not think -we cared what happened to us so long as we sunk -the insurgent ship, and avenged our defeat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Skipper did not mean to stand off and plug at -</span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span>, but to steer straight at her and -torpedo her. In fact, if he found her still at anchor, -he intended to send everybody, even the guns' crews, -down below the water-line, only himself and enough -people to transmit orders and fire the submerged -torpedo-tubes remaining above in the conning-tower.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We went to 'General Quarters' before we were -abreast Marina and the Casino, and I sat on the top -of my turret with the long 9.2 cocked up in the air in -front of me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I soon spotted </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente's</em><span> tripod mast, -and as we gradually drew nearer expected her to open -fire any minute, but she didn't, and we crept along -for another ten minutes or so. She seemed to be -very low in the water, and I was wondering whether -that would be due to the mirage, when a signalman, -perched on the wreck of the fore bridge, shouted that -she was sunk, and, sure enough, as we drew still -nearer, we saw that her upper deck was all awash, -and only her tripod mast, funnels, and upper works -showed above water—the black and green flag hanging -from her gaff.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We were too astonished to feel relieved, and -anchored within a couple of cables of her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Almost immediately the Provisional Government -came off to make the most abject apologies for what -had happened—they wouldn't have come, I suppose, -if their ship had not sunk—and with them came -Captain Don Martin de Pelayo—just such another as -General Zorilla, as Gerald had told me. He wore -eyeglasses, talked English, was awfully polite, and -genuinely sorry for the damage he had done.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I had my orders—you had yours,' I heard him -tell the Skipper, after they had shaken hands very -heartily. 'I am very sorry. We are not enemies of -the English. I try to run past you without firing, -but—</span><em class="italics">voila!</em><span>' (and he shrugged his shoulders) 'you -shoot so fast and you damage my ship so much, I -fear that I shall never arrive at San Fernando. Fifty -times you fire—I do nothing—but then I had to fire—it -was necessaire, and my guns—</span><em class="italics">voila!</em><span> they are very big.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Why did you sink her?' the Skipper asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He shrugged his shoulders. 'Treachery—the night -after that we come in—we land our wounded—they -are many—and many killed—some traitor open our -valves, and in the middle of the night we sink in the -mud.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We should have sunk you with our torpedoes, so -it doesn't make any difference,' the Skipper said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, that was the end of </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span> -and the end to all the hopes of the insurgents. The -Santa Cruz fleet could come and go where and when -it pleased, land another army, and drive Gerald and -the Provisional Government into the forest again, -beyond the reach of their guns, and there was not -the slightest chance either, whilst the fleet controlled -the coast, of joining forces with the insurgents in the -north and of attacking Santa Cruz itself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That same evening our young red marine subaltern, -the 'Shadow,' went mad.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He'd been very peculiar ever since that awful -morning when his chum, the Forlorn Hope, had been -killed, and the strain of the next few days, followed -by the prospect of fighting the insurgent ship again, -was too much for his brain. He went raving mad, -and had to be shut up in his cabin and his marine -servant shut in with him, to see that he did not hurt -himself. For three days and nights, although the -Fleet Surgeon tried everything to make him sleep, -he did not stop shouting and knocking on the cabin -bulkhead, and as his cabin was in the gun-room flat we -couldn't get away from his shouting, and it got on -our nerves most terribly, so much so that we were -all beginning to feel jumpy ourselves. On the fourth -morning he was quiet, and the Fleet Surgeon hoped -he would recover, but he died early in the afternoon -without having ever regained intelligence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This had a most awfully depressing effect on us -all, and, in addition, Cousin Bob was giving Ginger -and me a lot of worry. Several times I had been -across to the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> to see him, and I didn't like -the look of him at all. He could talk of nothing else -but that awful fifteen minutes, and of his poor little -chum the 'Angel,' so that I feared that his brain, too, -might be affected.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He's young,' the Fleet Surgeon said, 'he'll get -over it;' and I only prayed that he was right.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gerald, I heard, was all this time busy mounting -some of </span><em class="italics">La Buena President's</em><span> small guns on the -walls of El Castellar and on that ridge behind San -Fernando, hoping to drive off the Santa Cruz fleet if -it came again and brought old Zorilla with another -army. Still, even if he did drive the fleet away, he -had no possible chance of bringing the revolution to -a successful termination till he had destroyed it, and -there was not the slightest chance of his doing that.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There had been a good deal of trouble ashore -since we left San Fernando, because, as soon as the -insurgent troops learnt that </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span> was -to be captured by us and handed over to President -Canilla at Santa Cruz, and heard of the part we had -played in delaying the surrender of El Castellar, they -were so bitter against the English that they burnt the -Club, and would have killed the Englishmen if the -Provisional Government had not, with much difficulty, -prevented them doing so. Now, however, that the -big ship had been sunk by treachery and El Castellar -had surrendered, they, in some way or another, -thought that we would again help them, and were -just as keen on us as ever. The Provisional Government -simply loaded us with fruit and fresh food whilst -we remained at San Fernando busy trying to make -the poor old wrecked and gutted </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> seaworthy. -No leave was given because of the trouble ashore, so -that I could not go and see Gerald, and of course, -with that warrant for his arrest still lying in the -Skipper's knee-hole table, he could not come and see me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We heard that General Zorilla and the fleet were -preparing for another attack on San Fernando—now -that </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span> no longer could prevent -them—and every day we expected to hear the guns -firing from El Castellar and to see the ships steaming -past it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And one afternoon they did come; they were -half-way between us and the entrance before they were -sighted, and we rushed on deck to see them, very -glad of any excitement to make us forget our own -troubles, but we couldn't understand why we hadn't -heard any firing, and how it was that Gerald had -allowed the ships to slip by him without making an -effort to stop them. Poor old Gerald, he'd had a -good many 'ups' and 'downs,' but now it seemed to -be all 'downs.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I ran below to tell Navarro, and he was as puzzled -as I was, shrugging his shoulders as he always did -when he couldn't understand, or didn't care to tell -what he thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I ran up on deck again, and on shore we could see -the people running about in a scared kind of way, -and the small guns on that ridge being manned. I -only wished that our mids. could have fought them -again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The flagship was already abreast of El Casino, the -three remaining ships, the two torpedo-boats and -one wretched transport, following her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Why only one transport, we wondered!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As we watched and waited for the small guns to -fire, the torpedo-boats suddenly increased speed and -came steaming quickly towards us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What can be their game?' we were all thinking, -when there were shouts from all over the ship, -'Look at their flags! Look at their flags! The -stripes are horizontal! It's the black and green flag! -It's flying on the flagship as well! Look!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There wasn't a doubt about it. Each torpedo-boat -had a huge black and green flag at her masthead, -and in ten minutes we could see the colour and the -horizontal stripes with the naked eye, as they dashed -along close to the shore. We heard hurrahing, and -saw hundreds of the little brown forest-men crowding -down on the beach as they passed, jumping about -on the sand, wading into the sea up to their waists -towards them, and waving their rifles. The shouting -and the hurrahs spread along the road till the town -itself was full of voices, all the bells in the place -began ringing, and hundreds of black and green -flags were hoisted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'm blowed if they haven't become insurgents -themselves,' the Skipper muttered, dropping his -eyeglass in his surprise; and there couldn't be the least -doubt of it, for now we could see the crews of the -torpedo-boats waving their caps to the troops on -the beach, and could hear the crews of the ships -cheering.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, that pretty nearly knocked us all 'flat aback,' -and we realised at once that now Gerald, with the -Santa Cruz fleet to help him, would be master at sea -and could do anything he liked, join forces with the -insurgents in the northern province, and attack Santa -Cruz itself whenever he was ready. It was so grand -and so jolly unexpected that I hardly know what I -felt, only awfully thankful that the revolution would -be over soon, and that Gerald wouldn't be worrying -them all at home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two torpedo-boats slowed down as they came -towards us. '</span><em class="italics">Viva los Inglesas! Viva la Marina -Inglesa!</em><span>' their crews shouted, and then they were -past and abreast the poor old </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span>, -with the water running through her upper works and -the top of her foremost turret just showing above the -surface like the back of a whale.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They stopped, their crews stood to attention along -their rails and saluted the flag that drooped over her, -and suddenly burst into cheers, shouting, '</span><em class="italics">Viva El -Capitaine Pelayo! Viva Pelayo! Viva la Marina -Santa Cruz! Viva Presidente de Costa! Viva los -Horizontals! Viva Don Geraldio!</em><span>'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The last shout made me warm up all over. Good -old Gerald! they hadn't forgotten him, didn't bear -him any ill-will, and were proud of him too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'll be able to ask him to dinner after all,' the -Skipper said, twinkling and rubbing his hands. -'The Government is almost certain to recognise the -Provisional Government now. Don't expect he'd -come, though—wouldn't care to dine with the poor -Skipper of a beaten ship.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ships themselves came along now, and this -time they </span><em class="italics">did</em><span> notice us, their crews crowding behind -the hammock nettings and in the gun ports to see -the awful destruction </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span> had done -to us. The flagship had only 'Presidente' on her -stern—the 'Canilla' part had been knocked off—and -she slowed down and fired seventeen guns to salute -the sunken ship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For the first time since that awful morning I felt -happy, and rushed down below to tell Navarro what -had happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did not seem in the least depressed, and -shrugged his shoulders. 'I make the guess. When -you tell me El Castellar no fire guns when they -pass, I had the suspic—ion. De Costa will now be -Presidente—Canilla will fly.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What will become of General Zorilla?' I asked -him. I didn't want to see the old chap go to the -wall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He raised his eyebrows. 'He never change. If -Canilla tell him "fight," he will fight till he killed; -but when de Costa is </span><em class="italics">Presidente</em><span> and tell him to fight, -he also fight till he killed.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I knew what Navarro meant, and it was just what -I thought the grand old chap would do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, that is what happened and how everything -was changed in a single hour; the Santa Cruz -Admiral came to call on the Skipper and explain -matters, and the Provisional Government came off -to renew their claims for Recognition. It was just -as Navarro had thought. The news that their old -comrades in </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span> had beaten one of -the finest cruisers in the English Navy had come -to the ships huddled under the breakwater at Los -Angelos, expecting every hour that she'd come along -and sink them, and they were so proud of her and -her people, and so enraged when they heard that -she'd been treacherously sunk after her glorious fight, -that they hoisted the black and green flag and came -along to throw in their lot with the insurgents.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Provisional Government, as a reward for his -great services, made the Admiral Vice-President and -gave his job to Captain Pelayo.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This pleased the fleet even if it did not please the -Admiral, who must have known that it was only done -so that there'd be no chance of his altering his mind -again. Gerald told me, long afterwards, that he'd -been given the choice either of becoming -Vice-President or of being shot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> went off to Princes' Town to renew -the Provisional Government's demand for Recognition, -and came back again, two days afterwards, with the -welcome news that both the British and United States -Governments had granted it. This was like a weight -off my chest, because Gerald now could come and go -wherever he liked without fear of arrest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Skipper sent a private note to de Costa telling -him the news, and let me go with him when he and -Captain Roger Hill went ashore to communicate -it officially. We could hardly get through the -crowds that blocked the streets and filled the square -in front of the </span><em class="italics">Alcade's</em><span>[#] offices, where the Provisional -Government were installed; thousands of the insurgent -troops surged round us cheering for all they -were worth, but we got through them eventually and -I spotted Gerald.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Mayor.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'It's all splendid,' he said; 'won't the mater be -glad? D'you know that that transport they brought -is "chock-a-block" with ammunition and stores -from Los Angelos?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I expect you'll be back at the rubber plantation -soon,' I laughed, I felt so jolly happy; but Gerald -only smiled and shook his head, 'Not exciting -enough.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'How about that little beast?' I asked. 'Is he -safe in hospital?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You cruel brute!' he answered; 'you maimed -him for life. He's cleared out somewhere—they let -him go—no one knew him.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I felt awfully vexed and angry about that, and -implored Gerald to be careful, but he only smiled and -knocked the ashes out of his pipe. He was looking -as fit as a fiddle, he'd done away with the sling for -his arm, and it did please me so to see him, in the -same smart white riding things and polo helmet, -'bossing' it among all the other fellows, who'd put -on their most gorgeous uniforms for the occasion, -and were covered with huge green and black -sashes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Skipper came up to congratulate him, and I -went off to shake hands with the 'Gnome'—he hadn't -put on any rotten sashes—and with José, who was -squatting outside, on the steps, holding Gerald's -horse. Then we went back to the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Couldn't get your brother to dine with me,' the -Skipper said, looking as if he'd been snubbed, 'he's -too busy and has no clothes.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was very sorry, because I had so looked forward -to showing him off to every one on board.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next day we crawled across to Prince Rupert's -Island, the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> close by, in case we wanted -assistance, and people came swarming off to see us -and the wreck we were. Navarro was sent ashore -to the Colonial Hospital, the mids. were still kept -aboard the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>, and the local ship-repairing -yard commenced to patch us up and make it safe -to find our way to Bermuda for a more thorough -repair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The black 'washer' ladies came crowding aboard, -as before, and were struck all of a heap when they -saw the mess we were in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arabella Montmorency had brought back some of -the 'Angel's' washing—it had been left behind—and -when I told her that he'd been killed, she burst out -crying, sobbing out, 'De Good Lo'd take de pretty -little boy; why He no spare him for Arabella to vash -his clo's. Oh, de pretty boy, de pretty boy!' She -was terribly upset about Perkins's washing too. A -shell had entirely destroyed his cabin and everything -in it, so that he had absolutely nothing to wear except -what he stood up in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She burst out into fresh sobs. 'Poor Massa -Perkins! poor Massa Perkins!—no clo's—no vash -clo's—Arabella more sooner vash for him for -noddings than Massa Perkins have no clo's for Arabella -to vash.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For five weeks we remained anchored off Princes' -Town, and everybody began gradually to brighten -'up' as the memory of that awful fifteen minutes and -the next week of woe became less vivid, though we -still had not the heart to arrange any matches with -the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> or with Princes' Town. At first the -shore people were always saying, 'Couldn't you -arrange a cricket-match for this day or that?' and -we'd answer, 'Ask our doctor, ask Clegg. He runs -the cricket,' and then remember that he had -disappeared, and that Bigge, our best bat and bowler, and -Montague and Pearson, two others of our team, had -also been killed. It was very difficult to forget about -them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We had plenty of news, all this time, from San -Fernando, because those local steamers, which had -been lying idle for the last few months, resumed -their work and ran regularly up to La Laguna. -Gerald even found time to write a letter and let me -know that preparations were being made for the final -attack on Los Angelos and Santa Cruz, but he wrote -that there would be some delay as the insurgents -in the northern province were not yet ready. They -were exhausted, temporarily, by the effort of driving -Canilla's army into the mountains and wanted rest. -I knew that if Gerald was there they wouldn't get -much rest, but he couldn't be in two places at once. -He didn't mention the ex-policeman, so I hoped that -the little brute had disappeared for good.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From Santa Cruz we heard very contradictory -reports, but there was no doubt that President Canilla -was making desperate efforts to defend the city, and -that the batteries above Los Angelos were practising -almost daily. He was issuing fiery proclamations to -encourage his troops, but, in spite of them, and in -spite of General Zorilla's popularity, his men were -deserting in great numbers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was known that directly the insurgents -commenced to make their final attack on the city, the -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> was to go across to Los Angelos, to be there -in case any trouble arose and she might be wanted -to back up the authority of the British Minister. As -the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> was to go to Bermuda you can imagine -that every one on board her was rather sorry not to -be able to see the end of the revolution. Of course I -was especially sorry because of Gerald. You can -therefore guess how jolly pleased I was when the -Skipper sent for me one morning and told me that -he was transferring me to the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>. One of her -lieutenants had been invalided home and I was to -take his place.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Tut, tut, boy!' he said; 'I chose you because -I knew you'd like to keep an eye on that haughty -brother of yours.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was jolly good of him, and when the local repairs -had been completed, and the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> was fit to steam -to Bermuda, I packed my gear, was taken across to -the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>, and, with Ginger and Cousin Bob, -watched her slowly crawl past us, out through the -northern entrance. The band struck up 'Rolling -Home' and 'Auld Lang Syne,' and I felt rather -mournful to see my old ship steaming away without me, -looking, even now, very desolate and dreary with her -jerry foretopmast, patched bridge and upperworks, -and only her two after funnels.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had a very jolly time aboard the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> with -Ginger, found Cousin Bob much brighter, and Ginger -and I often chuckled to see how his mids. and mine -had become as thick as thieves.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-attack-on-santa-cruz"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Attack on Santa Cruz</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Written by Sub-Lieutenant William Wilson, R.N.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Ten days after the crippled old </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> had crawled -away from Princes' Town, we heard of her arrival at -Bermuda, and very glad we all were to know that she -had reached there safely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I heard from Gerald once or twice, and he wrote -that the departure of his expedition from San -Fernando was still delayed, owing to the difficulty of -obtaining transports for the troops, but the -Provisional Government now had an Agent at Princes' -Town, who was chartering any steamer which would -take the risks—a pretty penny they were charging—and -he hoped to be ready in a fortnight or so to put -to sea and effect a junction with the troops from the -northern province in front of Los Angelos.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was rather monotonous waiting, all this time; -but at last one of the local steamers came in from -San Fernando with the news that the expedition was -on the point of departure, and we immediately -weighed anchor and steamed across to Los Angelos, -anchoring once more off the white breakwater and -lighthouse at the foot of the gloomy mountains of -Santa Cruz.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On shore they must have known of the imminent -approach of the insurgents, because we could see -them working like ants on the breakwater and -wharves, piling up sand-bags to form breastworks -for rifle-fire and emplacements for field-guns. Once -I felt sure that I recognised Zorilla, tramping among -the men and encouraging them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That night half-a-dozen steamers, of sorts, came -down the coast from the northern province of San -Juan, and anchored outside us, and outside the range -of the guns in the forts. How President Canilla -must have raged when he saw them, and cursed his -Navy for having deserted him!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They waited there till morning, then got up their -anchors and stood out to sea. We guessed that they -were waiting for Gerald, and, sure enough, by -mid-day, the four insurgent men-of-war and the two -torpedo-boats appeared from the south, escorting -seven steamers; they joined forces with the other -transports and steamed towards us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'There, lad!' the Skipper said, chuckling and -pointing his telescope at them. 'There's an illustration -for you of the value of sea power. If those four -miserable cruisers still flew the yellow and green flag, -not one single transport could have moved.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It really was a very striking example of how the -possession of the cruisers and the 'Command of the -Sea' had entirely altered the chances of the two -sides.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span> had been allowed to -destroy those cruisers, whilst they flew the green -and yellow flag, the same thing would, of course, -have happened, but if, after she had been sunk, they -had not revolted, Gerald would still be wandering -about the forests, and the insurgents from the northern -province would still be confined to their plains, and -San Fernando and every town along the coast would -still be liable at any moment to bombardment or -capture by any expedition President Canilla chose -to land there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The transports anchored before they came within -range of the guns above Los Angelos, but the men-of-war -and the two torpedo-boats stood boldly inshore, -and immediately came under a very heavy fire. We -had to 'weigh' and steam off, so as not to interfere -with it, but you can imagine that we stayed as close -as we could, in order to see all that was going on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The firing was very rapid, and very badly directed, -the shells striking the water anywhere but near the -ships, and what we noticed chiefly was the peculiar -noise the long dynamite shells made—there were two -dynamite guns in the forts, you remember—hissing -through the air like enormous rockets, though they -did not make much more noise when they struck the -water than the ordinary shells. I and the rest of my -mids. aboard the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> were, of course, authorities -on shell-fire now, and most of them gave themselves -tremendous airs, although Bob and one or two others -changed colour, and got very white every time a shell -burst anywhere near the ships—that wasn't often—and -I knew pretty well that they were still suffering from -nerves, and hadn't recovered from those fifteen minutes -which wrecked the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The cruisers never took the trouble to reply; they -knew the weak spot in the defences of Los Angelos; -steamed right inshore, where the big guns in the forts, -high up above their decks, couldn't touch them, and -began blowing the sand-bags about in fine style.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The torpedo-boats darted in along the wharves and -inside the breakwater, firing their machine guns, at -point-blank range, into the crowds of troops there, and -the amount of ammunition expended was enormous.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A good many rifle-bullets and a few shells from -field-guns came our way, but no one was touched.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Late in the afternoon, when the firing was slacking -down, one of the torpedo-boats came buzzing along -quite close to us. She was on her way to the -transports, and as she passed us, we saw that her funnel -and some boiler-plates she'd built up on deck, round -her machine gun, were pitted with bullet-marks. -They looked, for all the world, like the inside of a -nutmeg grater. Two bodies were lying close to the -machine gun, but the rest of the crew were coiled -down, resting, and not taking the least notice of them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She went alongside one of the transports and came -hurrying back. Standing just for'ard of the funnel -was old Gerald, smoking his pipe. He was still in -the same rig—brown boots and gaiters, white duck -riding breeches, white duck Norfolk jacket, and white -polo helmet—and José, with his scarlet sash, was -squatting on the deck at his feet. He looked up as -he went by, and nodded cheerfully as I waved to him, -and he saw who I was. He was then taken alongside -the flagship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Firing did not cease till dark, but none of us -thought that the green and yellow flags would be -flying in the morning, and we were quite right. Los -Angelos itself was deserted, and white flags as big -as table-cloths were hoisted above the forts up the -mountain-side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The transports immediately went alongside the -wharves and began to disgorge their ragged little -brown troops; the cruisers and gunboats took up -their old moorings behind the breakwater, and we -anchored again outside it and just clear of the -lighthouse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You can imagine how keen we were to go ashore -and see what was happening; but Captain Roger -Hill was as strict as he was prim, and refused to give -any leave whatever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'If we had your Skipper—"Old Tin Eye"—here, -Billums, I bet every soul would be ashore by now,' -Ginger said; but I don't know, he had had a bit of a -fright when our mids. fought those 4.7's, and had -been much stricter ever since.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We could only hang about on deck with our -telescopes and watch the little insurgents pouring out -of Los Angelos, and crowding along that road, up -the mountain-side, towards Santa Cruz. A long way -up, at a place where it curved sharply, the yellow and -green flag was still flying, and we could make out -trenches and could see the wheels of some field-guns -half hidden among the trees. The trenches were -continued up the mountain-side, and it looked, from -where we were, as if a hundred brave men, behind -them, could stop a thousand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before nightfall Gerald's people were swarming -below this line of trenches, and during the middle -watch desultory firing went on continuously, but in -the morning the yellow and green flag still flew there, -and when we could see the little white-shirted -insurgents dodging in and out among the trees, they -hadn't got any nearer to the guns. Next night there -was still more firing; the field-guns were booming -every few minutes, their shells bursting, with a vivid -glare, lower down on the mountain-side. It was -most fascinating to watch, but, as Bob said, gave us -a 'crick in the neck' looking up all the time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The flags and the field-guns were still there in the -morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Your brother will find that a pretty awkward road -to Santa Cruz,' Captain Roger Hill said, speaking to -me, off duty, for the first time since I joined the ship. -I bridled up and got angry at once, for he said it in -such a tone as to imply, 'What the dickens can a -mere rubber-planter know about war?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He's beaten General Zorilla once, sir; I expect -he'll manage it again somehow,' I answered, as he -stalked away, smiling in his superior way. I'd jolly -well like Gerald to meet him and take him down -a peg. He'd sized up Captain Grattan, my own -Skipper ('Old Tin Eye'), and put him in his place -quick enough—good chap though he was—and he'd -have an easy job with Captain Roger Hill.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Captain went over to the insurgent flagship -that afternoon to see about some complaint which our -Consul at Los Angelos had made, and I slipped a -note for Gerald into his coxswain's hands, hoping it -would get to him.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'Hope things are going all right. For goodness' -sake, get Bob and myself ashore—I'm sick of this -ship. Get my chum, Hood, ashore, too, if you -can.—BILLUMS.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>By a bit of luck he actually was aboard, and sent -me back an answer scribbled on the envelope.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'Will do my best—things are humming.—GERALD.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The coxswain brought it back when the Captain -returned, and I'd hardly read it when I was sent for.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ha! Hum! Mr. Wilson, I met your brother on -board the flagship. He seems to be the head of the -revolutionary army, and will—Hum! Ha!—be a very -important man in the country if it is successful. -He's asked me to let you accompany him in the -advance. Ha! Hum! I've no objection. If you -want to get killed, you can.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Thank you very much, sir,' I answered, though -I jolly well wanted to kick him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Did he ask for Hood or my cousin, Bob Temple?' -I asked, putting in a word for them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ha! Hum! he did, but Mr. Hood is a </span><em class="italics">valuable</em><span> -officer, and Mr. Temple too young. Good-morning!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He </span><em class="italics">was</em><span> an irritating chap, if you like, and the -amusing part of it was that he thought every one -was fearfully impressed with his importance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Gerald sent for me too-sent the same little -harbour launch which had brought me on board the -</span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>, after I'd been released from San Sebastian—sent -it fussing out from behind the breakwater, and -it waited alongside whilst I shifted into plain clothes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I've done my best for you both,' I said, as Ginger -and Bob watched me 'change,' 'but it can't be -done—very sorry—the Captain says you're a valuable -officer—meaning that I'm not—and that Bob is too -young.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I filled my baccy pouch, shoved the mater's last -letter into my pocket to show Gerald, and went -ashore, feeling as happy as a bird and jolly important.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How the chaps did envy me!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>José was waiting for me on the wharf, smiling all -over his honest ugly face, and took me along with him, -though it was pretty awkward 'going' because of -the sand-bags scattered everywhere. The shops and -warehouses along the front were simply riddled with -bullets and shell marks, and some men, with a -mule-cart, were searching round for bodies and dumping -them into it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We tramped along—it was so hot that the place -was like an oven—and found Gerald inside an office -kind of place with the black and green flag flying -over it, and I knew he was happy by the way he -puffed his pipe. There were a great number of -officers there, many of whom I had seen before at -San Fernando, and they bowed and smiled in the -most friendly way; I almost felt one of them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Hullo, Billums! Just in time! Go inside and -get some grub—you'll get no more till to-morrow,' -Gerald sang out, looking up from some papers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Your next meal will be in Santa Cruz—with luck,' -he said, coming in when I'd got through a 'fid' of -tinned meat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Not in San Sebastian, I hope!' I answered, -stuffing down the last bit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Don't be an ass!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You're not making much headway along the -road, are you?' I asked presently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No, we aren't, and we don't mean to. That's -not the main attack. I'm going over the mountain -to-night—hope to be above Santa Cruz at daylight—you've -got a pretty stiff climb before you.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But won't all the paths be defended?' I asked, -jolly excited to think of what was going to happen. -'Surely old Zorilla would do that?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He's left one open,' Gerald winked, 'one that -chap you call the 'Gnome' knows. He's going to -lead us, but you'll have to wait here till it's dark.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What became of that black horse?' I asked him, -as he was going out of the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Brought it round from San Fernando, and sent -it up to Zorilla yesterday. He's awfully grateful. -I can't stop any longer; I must go up that road and -show myself, below those trenches, before it gets too -dark, or Zorilla will begin to imagine we're not -intending to attack that way.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then I had to tramp up and down and wait for -the sun to set, thinking of Gerald riding up the -mountain road towards Santa Cruz, till he was close -enough to those trenches we had seen to be -recognised and be potted at.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last it was dark—rather too dark, because a -tremendously black thunder-cloud came sweeping -in from seawards—and José came for me and took -me away through narrow steep streets which were -almost pitch-dark because the electric light from -Santa Cruz had been cut off. There were bonfires -at the street corners, but they only seemed to make -the darkness greater.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We got up past the houses, well above the town, -and came to a flatter piece of ground, and although -it was pitch-dark, and I couldn't see anything, I -knew, by the smell and the murmur of voices and -rattling of rifles, that there were thousands of the -little brown men all round me. We found Gerald -at last, the 'Gnome,' in a great state of excitement, -with him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We're just going on. We've a five-hour climb -before us,' Gerald said—he didn't seem excited.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's going to be a beastly night,' I whispered—I -could not help whispering, because I was so -excited.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'So much the better,' he said cheerfully. 'We -shan't be heard.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he gave some orders very quietly, said, -'Come along;' and we four, the 'Gnome' leading -the way, began climbing. I was in pretty good -training, but it was all I could do to keep up with -them; I hadn't nails in my boots, either, which -made climbing all the more difficult.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Hold up, old chap; you can't afford to slip,' -Gerald said, clutching me as I stumbled, a few -minutes after we had started, 'it's a long way to the -bottom.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I told him about my boots.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Boots are a nuisance,' he answered; 'those little -chaps of mine looted an army boot-store yesterday; -they think boots make them look more like real -soldiers. They've never worn boots before, and will -be footsore in an hour, but they </span><em class="italics">will</em><span> wear them. I -can't prevent them.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I could hear them slipping and sliding behind me -in the darkness. To make matters worse, after we'd -been climbing for a couple of hours, the rain came -down in bucketsful, drenched us to the skin, and -made everything more slippery than ever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'm going to take mine off,' I told Gerald when -I had slipped badly again, and so I did, hanging my -boots round my neck, and stuffing my socks inside -them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently we heard a sliding noise behind us, a -rifle went bounding and clattering down, a man gave -a scream, and then, far below, we heard a crash, as -if the body had fallen into dry bushes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That's one gone over the edge,' Gerald said, -quite coolly, 'I wish the others would do as you've -done and take off their boots. Keep well to the -right.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I didn't like it at all, and you bet I put each foot -down jolly carefully before I trusted my weight -to it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We were walking, or scrambling, up a rock path, -and I knew that on our left the mountain-side sloped -down very precipitously, and far below, under my -feet, could hear the noise of a rushing stream; it -sounded thousands of feet below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Noise! Why, it didn't much matter what noise -we made! For, although the rain had ceased nearly -as quickly as it had commenced, the night and -blackness was full of the noises of mountain torrents, -splashing down the rocks above and below us—all -round us, in fact—sluicing stones along with them, -and making a great rattle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We knew that the 'Gnome' was still plodding on -ahead, for he kept calling softly back every few -seconds. Then a great black gap seemed to open -right out at our feet—it looked like the end of the -world for blackness. My nerves were pretty jumpy—they -hadn't yet recovered from that fight with </span><em class="italics">La -Buena Presidente</em><span>—and I clutched at a rock and -shivered in my wet things. We had stopped, and -the 'Gnome' was taking off his boots.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You'll have to be careful here,' Gerald said. -'Lean well to the right and get a good grip before -you put your weight on your feet. Come on!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I heard the 'Gnome' scrambling round something, -sending stones flying down into space, Gerald -disappeared, and I followed with my heart in my -mouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Dig your toes in and get a good grip,' he sang -out, and I stuck them into a ledge and a little crack -I felt, skinning them, I know, and worked my way -along. My shoulders were hanging over that black -pit below, and I had that awful feeling that I wanted -to let go and fall down. I dare not move hand or -foot, but just as I was beginning to sweat with -fear, Gerald caught me by one hand and pulled me -round.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That's the worst bit, Billums; we shall lose some -of them here.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I couldn't answer—my jaws were chattering so -much. I was trembling all over.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No! I certainly hadn't quite got over that terrible -fifteen minutes while the poor old </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> was being -shattered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I followed him in a second or two, but we had -barely gone twenty paces before we heard some one -slipping at that corner we had just passed; there was -a scream—it sounded again hundreds of feet below -us—then absolute silence, while I waited, with my -ears tingling, for the crash.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last it came up to us out of the darkness, just -like the noise a plum would make if you threw it on -the ground. I dug my bare heel among the stones -and clutched some bushes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Come along!' Gerald whispered nervously, but -stopped again because there were more screams from -that awful corner. He groped his way back. 'I'll -make them join their belts together and form a line -round there,' he said, as the 'Gnome,' José, and I -waited shivering for him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'</span><em class="italics">Don Geraldio, mucho bueno</em><span>,' the 'Gnome' -muttered under his breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My brother's voice sounded again after what -seemed like half an hour, 'I had to go round that -blessed corner place, Billums, but I've got a dozen -belts fixed together and men holding them on each -side, so it's pretty safe now.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I myself wouldn't have gone round that corner, or -whatever it was, for anything in the world.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We scrambled on, and the rain came tumbling -down; in five minutes the path we were in was a -raging torrent, and my naked feet slipped back one -step for every three I made. They were getting -tender now—very tender.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We're past the worst part, put your boots on -again,' Gerald sang out, and I tried to do so, but -they were so wet and my feet so swollen that they -wouldn't go on, so I had to do without them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What's the time?' I asked Gerald presently, -when we'd halted to let the column close up. 'Is it -safe to light a match?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'My goodness, no! Zorilla's people would see us -for miles; he has watchers all over the hills. -Whatever time it is I'm afraid we shall be late.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We </span><em class="italics">were</em><span> late too, and by the time it was light -enough to see my wretched feet—and wasn't I jolly -glad to begin to see anything—it was half-past two, -and we still had a long climb before us. But we -went much faster now, and began edging away to -the right, bearing round a tremendous mountain -shoulder that loomed up over our heads.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'On the other side is Santa Cruz,' Gerald -whispered. That was exciting enough, if you like. -He was busy hurrying on his men, who now -began slipping past us, going on ahead. They -looked pretty well exhausted, and most of them had -done as I had done—hung their boots round their -necks; but in spite of their being soaked to the skin, -and in spite of their tremendous climb, they were -cheerful enough, and their eyes were flashing all -right—at the prospect of sacking Santa Cruz, I -expect. The officers looked much more weather-beaten -than they did.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then we went on again, and I asked Gerald -whether we had lost many men during the night, but -he didn't know. We were walking through coarse -grass that cut my feet and made them smart like the -mischief, so I stuck my socks on. That eased things -a little.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We can see Santa Cruz from here—in daylight,' -Gerald whispered presently, as we reached the top, and -I knew by the waver in his voice that he was—at -last—excited; I know that the blood went tingling to </span><em class="italics">my</em><span> -ears at the mere thought of being so near the city.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The men were thrown out in a single line; we -stopped to get them into something like order, and -as they marched into position they threw themselves -down on the wet ground, clutching their beloved -rifles feverishly, and looking down through the -gloom and the mist to where Santa Cruz lay at our -feet. That long line of little crouching men with -their glittering eyes all trying to pierce the dim light -and see the city they'd heard so much about and -come so many miles to capture, was the most -extraordinary sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As I looked at them I couldn't help thinking what -an awful fate was waiting for Santa Cruz if they -should get out of hand and sack it. They were more -than half-savages, and their officers, standing there -among them, didn't look as if they could control -them once they began to see 'red.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Is everything all right?' I asked Gerald, who had -come back out of the mist from where the far end -of the line extended, out of sight, and he nodded -cheerfully, so I didn't mind being wet through and -hungry, and longed for him to give the signal to -rush down to the city below us. Poor old Zorilla! -I couldn't help feeling sorry for him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently he did give a sign, the officers drew -their swords, and the whole crouching mob sprang -to its feet, and we began scrambling and sliding -downhill. It was a jolly sight easier work than -scrambling up, but we made the dickens of a noise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a quarter of an hour we could smell the city, -and then the faint outlines of the old cathedral tower -showed up, the fierce little men drawing in their -breath with a hissing sound as they pointed it out -to each other. Suddenly, right under our feet, I -recognised San Sebastian—we were looking down on -top of it and on those short saluting guns along the -parapet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As I pointed it out to Gerald there was the crack -of a rifle and then another, then hundreds of bullets -came flying past, hitting the ground in front of us -and whizzing overhead. Gerald's men sank to the -ground behind us, and I could hardly see them -among the brown rocks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The 'Gnome' came waddling along—out of -breath—Gerald told me to lie down, and he and the -'Gnome' and about a hundred men crept forward to -reconnoitre. I crawled after them, and caught up -with my brother just as he was looking round a big -boulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Look there!' he whispered, 'down to the left!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I peered through the dim light, and there, drawn -up between us and San Sebastian, on some level -ground, I saw several regiments of regulars. A few -companies, already extended, were lying down and -firing up at us, some were deploying as rapidly -as they could, and others were crowding into San -Sebastian and lining the walls. Four field-guns -came bumping along out of the mist and began -unlimbering and a little group of horsemen galloped -up behind them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'There's old Zorilla!' we both sang out. You -couldn't possibly mistake him and his black horse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He's too late,' Gerald whispered excitedly. -'We'll rush 'em.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He got up and back we climbed to where we'd left -our men. Bullets were spluttering and splashing all -round us, but no one was hit. Gerald collected some -of the officers and jabbered away to them in Spanish. -I saw their tired eyes begin flaming.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Look here, Billums!' he said, turning to me. -'Would you mind hurrying down in front of those -chaps on the left? I'm going to take the right of the -mob—I'm going straight for the guns—but you cut -along to the left and try and get into San Sebastian. -Shout, wave your arms, but keep going, and they'll -follow all right. Here, take my polo helmet, that'll -make you all the more like me. It's all right; -Zorilla won't get his chaps to stand when they see -we mean things.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Off he ran to his part of the line.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 77%" id="figure-130"> -<span id="scrambling-down-the-mountain-side"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="SCRAMBLING DOWN THE MOUNTAIN SIDE" src="images/img-339.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">SCRAMBLING DOWN THE MOUNTAIN SIDE</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>My aunt! that was fun, if you like. I went across -to the left and began halloaing; the officers began -shouting, '</span><em class="italics">Viva los Horizontales!</em><span>' and before I could -say 'Jack Robinson' the whole of those little brown -chaps and I were scrambling down the mountain-side -straight for San Sebastian, yelling blue murder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My old boots were knocking up against each other -and against my back, but I jammed Gerald's polo hat -firmly on and slid and scrambled, and ran and slid -again. The field-guns fired once or twice, there was -an appalling triumphant shrieking noise behind me—you -couldn't call it a cheer, it was much too savage -for that—and Gerald was right. Zorilla's infantry -could </span><em class="italics">not</em><span> stand the torrent of brown forest-men -dashing down the mountain-side on top of them, and, -just as I was wishing that I had a stick or a -stone—anything, in fact—in my hand, they fired a volley -and began running and racing back to the town and -behind the walls of San Sebastian.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The mule-drivers unhitched the mules from the -guns and galloped madly along after -them—helter-skelter—dodging behind the walls, and then -streaming along the road towards the city itself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We were after them like smoke, and just as some -of them dashed across the drawbridge and tried to -close the heavy iron doors, we rushed in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They didn't show fight, I should think they didn't; -it was only the backs of them we saw as they tumbled -over themselves to escape, throwing away their rifles -and clambering through the embrasures of those -saluting guns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, that was how I paid my second visit to San -Sebastian—a bit of a change from my first visit, -wasn't it?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I dashed out again to help Gerald and, as I turned -round the walls, along he came and old Zorilla with -him. The poor old chap was mopping some blood -off his forehead, and though he did look so forlorn -he bowed to me in quite a friendly way. I gave his -hand a jolly good hard grip.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It turned out that only a very few of his men -round those guns had made any stand, and that -Gerald had simply swept through them, driven them -back under the walls of the fort, and the old man had -surrendered. The little brown men were rushing -like a pack of hounds after the retreating regulars, -and Gerald's officers were trying to stop them. They -did manage to bring some back, but couldn't stop -the rest, who went careering along towards Santa -Cruz, till fifty or sixty regulars, braver than the -others, or perhaps unable to run any farther, faced -round, formed up across the road, and began firing -at them, when back they came grinning and smiling -like spaniels who have been ranging too far ahead -and know they deserve a hiding. A lot of them -scrambled up the mountain-side to fetch their beloved -boots, which they had dropped before they began -charging down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The revolution is finished,' Gerald said quite -quietly, and began loading his pipe; but his fingers -shook a little, and I knew that he was fearfully excited, -although he did his best to conceal the fact. He had -the field-guns brought into the fort, and stuck them -through some vacant embrasures, where they could -command the road leading down to the city. Then -he began to get his chaps into some kind of order again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Would you like to hoist the flag, Billums? You -can if you like,' he said; and you bet I would. -Some one—the 'Gnome' it was—brought along a roll -of black and green bunting; we climbed up to the -flagstaff on top of the walls, and hitching it to the -halyards I hauled it up, hand over hand. You -should have seen Gerald's chaps yelling and dancing -about, and heard them shouting, '</span><em class="italics">Viva de Costa!' -'Viva los Horizontals!</em><span>' and '</span><em class="italics">Viva Don Geraldio!</em><span>' -I need hardly tell you which were the loudest shouts, -but old Gerald never moved a muscle, and took them -all as a matter of course.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I stood on top of the wall and smiled down on -them, and never had had a jollier spree. It was -quite light now—a most beautiful calm morning, -the air crisp and fresh—and the top edge of the -ridge we'd just climbed down was a rosy red.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whatever the weather had been it wouldn't have -made much difference to me; I felt simply glorious, -and thought of old Ginger, down aboard the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>, -keeping his morning watch and trying to prevent the -men from making too much noise over the Captain's -head and waking him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was grand to be alive! I managed to get on -my boots, though they wouldn't go on over my socks, -then I took my coat off and shook some of the water -out of it, for I was still as wet as a rat. Any number -of weird noises were coming up from the city.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They'll come and attack us, I suppose; won't -they?' I asked Gerald, but he only smiled and said -something to General Zorilla, who smiled too, rather -sadly, and shook his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then I thought of that room place with the barred -iron door where I'd been shut up, and took Gerald -over to have a good look at it, but he'd had it opened -already, and quite a number of 'plain clothes' people -were standing about, not quite knowing what to do, -but highly delighted with themselves. They had -just been released. I showed him those three graves, -although they were not very distinct now as grass -had already grown over them. It was a happy time -if you like, and I was getting more hungry every -second.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Half an hour later a carriage came driving furiously -up the road towards San Sebastian, and two civilians -and an officer jumped down. They came up very -humbly to Gerald and spoke to him. I knew their -news was good, because Gerald's face twitched so -much, and directly he called out something in -Spanish, every one inside and outside the fort began -shouting and yelling with delight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Canilla has vanished,' he told me; 'the place is -empty, and they're going to hoist the black and green -flag over the cathedral tower as soon as they've sewn -one together.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Then it's all over,' I said, just a little disappointed -that there was to be no more excitement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Yes! we can march in now, but——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But what?' I asked, seeing Gerald look a little -anxious, and he swept his hand round to where the -little half-savage men were cheering and shouting, -dancing about like children.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'——but if I took them in now, Santa Cruz would -be in flames in an hour.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I rather guessed that that was the trouble.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The carriage drove back again, and General Zorilla -went in it, little José went as well, sitting up with the -driver and looking very important.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gerald told me that he'd appointed old Zorilla -Commandant of the city, and that he'd sent him in -to get together as many regular troops as he could -find to guard the streets and keep order. Funnily -enough, it never even occurred to me that old Zorilla -could not be trusted; nobody who'd seen the old man -could possibly doubt his honour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'D'you know what the troops will be doing for the -next half-hour?' Gerald smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No! what?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Twisting round the yellow and green badges in -their hats till the stripes are </span><em class="italics">horizontal</em><span>, and blacking -out the "yellow" part.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What's José gone for?' I asked him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He says that I left a clean pair of riding breeches -and a new helmet at the Club, and he's going to see -if they are still there.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I must say that old Gerald wanted them badly; -we both looked pretty disreputable. Just then the -bells in the cathedral began ringing, and the great -cracked bell banged out with its jarring clang. Bells -began ringing, from one end of the city to the -other, till the whole place seemed nothing but bells, -and in half an hour a big black and green flag was -hanging down over the old tower.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'If they don't send food out pretty soon for my -chaps, there'll be no holding them,' Gerald said -presently, and looked worried again; but old Zorilla -must have hurried up the townspeople considerably, -because very soon carts came out with bread and fruit -and rice cakes, and the fierce little fellows were soon -filling their stomachs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>José came back from the city, his eyes glittering -with pride; he'd found Gerald's room at the Club -quite undisturbed, and brought him a complete -change of clothes and some shaving tackle. We -went into one of the living rooms in the fort and -made ourselves look more respectable, José coming -with us and polishing Gerald's boots and gaiters till -you could see your face in them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All this time the men were round those carts -stuffing themselves contentedly; but don't think that -old Zorilla had forgotten us, rather not, he had sent -us out some breakfast, and you may guess we were -ready for it by the time we had cleaned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'First meal in San Sebastian! I said so!' and -I laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'So it is! Well, here's luck to it!' Gerald answered; -'and thanks very much, Billums, for coming along -with me.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'My dear chap, don't be an ass!' was the only -thing I could think to say.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I wish I could make my little chaps give up their -rifles,' he said, 'but I can't; they're too proud of them.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But surely if you disarmed them the regulars -might attack them?' I asked, but Gerald only smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Of course not! My dear Billums, didn't I tell -you that they are busy blacking out the yellow -stripes; they'll obey my orders now as cheerfully as -they'd have shot me an hour ago. Now Canilla has -vanished Zorilla only takes orders from the New -President—and that means me.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh!' I said, and, like the sailor's parrot, thought -a good deal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then I gave him the mater's last letter, and, after -he'd lighted his pipe, he sat back in a chair and read -it, stretching his legs out in front of him whilst José -knelt down buttoning up his gaiters and giving them -a final polish. I did wish that the mater could have -seen him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Officers with green and black badges in their caps -and helmets came backwards and forwards from the -city for orders, and some of them, I saw, had done -just as Gerald had said, simply turned the badges -round and inked out the yellow stripe. It made me -laugh, but he kept a face as sober as a judge, and -sent them flying here, there, and everywhere, and they -clicked their heels, saluted, and rushed off, as if he -had always been their Commanding Officer. I don't -expect they would have dared come among our little -chaps without blacking out the yellow stripe, although -now, with their stomachs full, they were quite peaceful -and contented, and went to sleep on the slope below -the fort or sat drying themselves in the sun, and -forgot, for a time, about looting the city.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Arnstein, the German Minister, came out -during the morning to arrange for the safety of -European property, and as he was an old friend of -my brother, was jolly pleasant. Whilst they were -yarning together de Costa's Secretary drove hurriedly -across the drawbridge, to say very excitedly that the -New President and the Provisional Government were -coming up the mountain road from Los Angelos, and -wanted to see Gerald. Gerald sent him back again -as quickly as he'd come.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'm hanged if I'm going down there,' he told me. -'For one thing, I daren't leave these chaps of mine. -I've told him that it's simply impossible for me to -leave San Sebastian, and told him to warn de Costa -to bring along as many regulars as he can get hold -of—as soon as they've shifted their badges.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We shall have them here as soon as they can -come,' he added, smiling. 'They'll be so frightened -lest I seize the palace and become Dictator before -they can get hold of it, that they'll come along like -"one o'clock."'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was right too. An hour later de Costa and the -whole of the Provisional Government came rattling -across the drawbridge, and simply threw themselves -on old Gerald; they would have kissed him if he'd -only taken his pipe out of his mouth, but as they'd -got hold of both his hands he couldn't. They shook -my hands, too, till they ached, and then went away -to take up their quarters in the palace, feeling more -easy in their minds, I expect, about that Dictatorship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I wished that they had never come, for one of -them had a note for me from the Commander of the -</span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>, ordering me back on board as soon as -possible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I showed it to Gerald. 'Confound the ship, I'll -have to go back at once.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He got me a horse, and sent the 'Gnome' down -with me in case there was any trouble on the road, -shouting out, 'Good-bye! Hope to see you up again -before long,' as we clattered out of San Sebastian. I -shouted '</span><em class="italics">Buenos! Buenos!</em><span>' to the little brown chaps, -a great number of them jumping up and giving me a -fine 'send off' as we cantered down to the city.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Regular troops were at every corner—their badges -twisted round and blackened—and it really was -ludicrous to see the attempts the townspeople had -made to show their loyalty to the New President; for -at nearly every window there was some kind of an -attempt at a black and green flag with the stripes -horizontal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A great number of people thought I was Gerald -himself, so I came in for quite a royal reception, but -we cantered rapidly through the square, field batteries -at every corner, past the front of the cathedral, with -that huge bell still jarring overhead, and as we passed -the Hotel de l'Europe I looked up at the window from -which Bob and I and the poor little 'Angel' had -seen the funeral procession and tried to escape that -beastly little ex-policeman. I wondered what had -become of him, and whether the stumps of his fingers -had healed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a long and tedious journey down the road -to Los Angelos, because at many places barricades, -thrown up to prevent Gerald's troops advancing, -were being lazily pulled down, and the litter on the -road made it impossible to get along quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, I did not want to be caught in the dark, -so we made our horses hurry whenever the road made -it possible, and we managed to reach Los Angelos in -two hours and a half. One of the boats belonging -to the Santa Cruz flagship happened to be waiting -alongside the wharf; the 'Gnome' said something -to the coxswain, and off I went in her, in great style, -to the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>. Good little 'Gnome,' he was pretty -well worn out by the time I wished him good-bye, -and he went away with our two horses.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-ex-policeman"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Ex-policeman</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Written by Sub-Lieutenant William Wilson, R.N.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>As you can imagine, I wasn't half pleased to get back -to the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>, and there I had to wait, not a soul -being allowed ashore, for a whole week. We heard -that order was being maintained in Santa Cruz, and -as this was the chief thing Gerald worried about, I -was very glad indeed. I never told you that, directly -the English and United States Governments had -recognised the insurgents, Canilla had sent every -foreign Minister, except Mr. Arnstein, and every -European merchant, out of the country. Now, -however, they all came back from Princes' Town, -and things seemed to be settling down peaceably, -just as peaceably, indeed, as after a General Election -and a change of Government at home. Canilla and a -very small number of officials, who'd made themselves -too obnoxious to stay, simply disappeared, finding -their way down to some village farther along the -coast, and taking refuge on board a Colombian -gun-boat which happened to be there. No one seemed -to worry about him or them—not in the least.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then came a formal invitation for the Captain and -Officers of H.M.S. </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> to attend the inauguration -of the new Government. There was to be a triumphal -entry of the former insurgent army into Santa Cruz, -a full dress ceremony in the old cathedral, and a -banquet afterwards at the palace. What made me so -pleased was that they'd sent me a separate invitation, -in recognition of my 'services to the Republic of -Santa Cruz.' Just think of that! I've got the card -now with a great spidery signature—Alvarez de -Costa—across the bottom of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Roger Hill couldn't possibly refuse to let -me go, although I'm certain he would have done so -if he could.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gerald sent me a note telling me to meet him at -the Club, and Mr. Macdonald, who had turned up -again from Princes' Town, drove Ginger and Cousin -Bob and myself up to Santa Cruz, just as he had done -before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We had to go in uniform, 'whites' with swords, -and as mine was an old-fashioned helmet, which came -down well over my eyes and the back of my neck, it -hid my hair. The result was that hardly any one -noticed me or mistook me for Gerald, though, wherever -we went, there were shouts of '</span><em class="italics">Viva los Inglesas!</em><span>' -from the crowds in the streets and at the windows. -The English were tremendously popular, chiefly on -account of Gerald, so Mr. Macdonald told us. 'Look -up there!' he called out, as we came in sight of -San Sebastian, and we saw that the slopes of the -mountains, below and above it, were simply swarming -with Gerald's little brown men in their white shirts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was just such another scorching hot day as the -first time we'd been in Santa Cruz, and the whole -place was a flutter of green and black, green and -black flags in front of every house, green and black -rosettes in every one's coats, and of course the regular -troops were plastered with green and black badges.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Troops! Why, there were more regular troops -than ever, cavalry, infantry, and artillery, and not a -sign of the fierce little brown men in the streets or big -square, except in front of the cathedral steps, where -about two hundred of them formed a guard of honour, -their ragged shirts and cotton drawers washed for the -occasion, new cartridge-belts round their waists, and -brown boots on their feet, but not looking particularly -happy in their finery, although there was a great -crowd watching them curiously. There was a funny -feeling of tension in the air, and every one had the -same worried expectant look on his face, just as I -had noticed on that first day we drove through the city.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Aren't there any women in the place?' Ginger -asked. 'We never seem to see any,' and -Mr. Macdonald shook his head. 'They know when -there's danger. It's always a bad sign when they -stay indoors. They're afraid of the insurgent troops -from the forests down south and the plains away to -the north. There's no knowing what they'll do -when they enter the city. Every one's nervous about -them.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We drove to the Club, and there we found any -number of fellows from the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>, and most of the -European residents too. They had the same anxious -look about them as we'd noticed outside, and one of -them, turning to me, said that practically everything -depended on my brother and his personal influence -and popularity with the ragged armed mob who were -going to march into Santa Cruz. He told me that -Gerald had just gone up to his room, so Ginger and -Bob and I went up and found him changing into -clean things, José, with a huge black and green -rosette in his coat, helping him. I introduced -Ginger, and unbuckling our sword-belts we sat on -his bed and yarned to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'How are your chaps going to behave?' I asked him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'So long as I can keep my eye on them they'll be -all right,' he said, 'but I don't like the idea of leaving -them outside when I have to go into the cathedral, -or to that banquet they talk so much about. I wish -to goodness I hadn't to go through this tomfoolery; -I have to ride immediately behind the President's -carriage. (How the dickens can he expect to be -popular if he don't ride a horse?) He won't let me -off the job either, although he's jealous of me, and -hates hearing people singing out my name, but he -knows he can't keep my little brown chaps in hand -himself, so he's going to keep me as close to him as -possible.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But </span><em class="italics">must</em><span> they come in?' Ginger asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Yes!' he said; 'they must. They must have -their triumphal entry. I've had bother enough -keeping them out as long as this, but they won't go home -till they can say that they've marched through Santa -Cruz as victors. Thank goodness, they've hardly got -a cartridge among them.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'How many are there?' Ginger began to ask, when -there was a gentle tap on the door, and one of the -Club servants came in, handed Gerald a visiting card, -and went out again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I don't know who the chap is,' Gerald said, looking -at it; 'I wish people wouldn't bother me now.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was another tap at the door, and in came a -man, dressed in a black frock-coat and grey trousers, -holding a tall silk hat with the thumb and the stumps -of the fingers of his right hand. For a second I -seemed to feel frozen with fear, for it was the -ex-policeman, the man whose fingers I'd cut off on the -beach at San Fernando, and as I sprang at him, he -drew a revolver from his breast with his left hand, -dodged round me, and fired point-blank at Gerald. -I heard Gerald catch his breath, and I'd caught the -revolver, hurled it away, and got the brute by the -neck in a second, José, with a scream, rushing across -to help me. He reeled over the foot of Gerald's bed, -and whether José choked him, or I broke his back in -my rage, I don't know, but he gave a shudder, slipped -out of our hands, and flopped down on the floor—dead. -Oh! that I had killed him that day at San Fernando!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I turned to Gerald, who was standing where he'd -been shot, with his hand over his stomach, Ginger -and Bob holding his arms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He got me in the stomach, Billums,' he said -quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Don't move a muscle,' I yelled, 'we'll lift you on -the bed.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As we laid him down very carefully, people came -rushing up from down below to know what had -happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Get a doctor,' I shouted, and I know that I was -blubbing like a child.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. Robson of the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> came rushing up, and -I shall never forget how we three watched his face -as he pulled down Gerald's riding breeches, very -carefully, to examine the wound.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'When did you have food last?' he said, and when -Gerald answered, 'Six hours ago,' he muttered, -'Thank God!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What size bullet was it? Show me the revolver.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bob brought it. It was a Mauser automatic pistol.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, what's the verdict?' Gerald asked quite -calmly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I can't say, must get some one else. Don't move -till I come back—not a muscle,' and Dr. Robson -went away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ginger went away too, some one dragged the body -out of the room, and only Bob, white and trembling, -with tears running down his face, José, crouching -dumb with grief on the floor, and myself stayed -with him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oh! that I'd killed the brute when I'd had that -chance at San Fernando!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I saw that Gerald was thinking and worrying -about something. Presently he said: 'Billums, old -chap, you've often asked me why I left the rubber -job; I wanted excitement, and I wanted to see how -I could run a revolution. Well, I've run it; I'm the -Commander-in-Chief, or whatever they call it, of the -Republic, and this is a great day for Englishmen out -here; we were rather going "under" before the -revolution, but now our chaps are "top of the tree," -and an Englishman must be behind de Costa's -carriage to-day. It's up to you now, you must take -my place.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I can't, Gerald; I can't really—I can't leave you,' -I stuttered, half choking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He thought a moment, and then went on. 'You -must, Billums. You know the reason. They're -afraid of my men. Once they get into the city with -arms in their hands they may get out of hand at the -least thing, they are so wild and excitable. I am the -only one who can control them, and for them to sack -Santa Cruz would spoil all I have done. In my rig, -you will be as like me as two peas, and so long as -they think I'm there, giving all the orders, they'll -obey their officers. They won't otherwise.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just then there were some firm footsteps outside -the door, and General Zorilla came gently in, in full -uniform, covered with medals, his old war-worn face -looking very sad, his thin lips very tightly pressed -together. He smiled at me, and then gripped Gerald's -hand, his stern old face working strangely. They -talked together for a minute or two, and I knew -somehow or other that they were not talking of Gerald -himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Yes, Billums! it's up to you now. You must -get into my ordinary rig out. Zorilla wants you to -do so, too—says it's the only thing that can save -Santa Cruz.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But a great many people will know me!' I cried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Many more won't; the people of the city won't, -and most of my men will think you are I. You've -only got to ride behind that carriage and return -salutes, and you've done it. You must do it, Billums; -my horse is as quiet as a lamb, he doesn't even mind -their atrocious bands or the guns firing.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I'd never felt so utterly wretched in my life. 'All -right, I'll try,' I said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Zorilla bowed to me and went out, though, first -of all, looking very sad, he clicked his heels and -saluted poor old Gerald as he lay on the bed. José, -with red eyes and trembling fingers, began -unbuttoning Gerald's gaiters, while Bob and I held -his legs above the knee to prevent any shaking. -The only clean riding breeches Gerald had were the -ones he was wearing, so he made us take them off. -I stripped and got into them; I could not have felt -more miserable if I was going to be hanged, and to -make things more wretched, just below the inner left -braces button was the small hole made by the bullet -and a tiny stain of blood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I dragged them on, José laced them at the knees, -then I put on Gerald's brown boots, and José fastened -on his gaiters, rubbing off his tear-marks with his -sleeve. He helped me into one of Gerald's white -duck 'Norfolk' jackets and handed me his newest -polo helmet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You're the very thing,' Gerald said, looking at -me, and even José appeared astonished, so I suppose -I must have looked very much like my brother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Dr. Robson came back with the Fleet -Surgeon of the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> and the swagger Santa -Cruz surgeon, an extraordinarily fat man with fat, -greasy, tobacco-stained fingers covered with rings. -They examined the wound again, and the fat man -shrugged his shoulders and I saw him draw one -finger across the other hand and look at Robson -very suggestively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I knew he meant to cut Gerald open.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Fleet Surgeon and he talked French to each -other for some minutes, and I could see that our -doctor didn't like the idea of an operation, but the fat -chap was evidently talking him round to his own -way of thinking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, what's the verdict?' Gerald asked, looking -from one to the other rather anxiously, and the Fleet -Surgeon said, in a low voice, 'We must give you -a little ether and have a look at you.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'All right, doctor, I'm ready,' Gerald answered -quite quietly; thank goodness, he was in hardly any -pain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the 'Gnome' came in to fetch Gerald for the -procession, thought for a second that I, in his things, -was he, but then saw him lying on the bed. He -nearly broke down when Gerald spoke to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You go with him, Billums,' Gerald said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. Robson followed us out of the room. 'We're -going to operate almost immediately; that fat chap -thinks it necessary, and as he's the best surgeon -anywhere here, we must take his advice.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I darted back, 'Good-bye, old chap! good luck!—there -won't be any pain.' I tried to say it cheerfully, -but I had to dart out again, for there was a lump -in my throat and I was afraid it would burst.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Good-bye, Billums!' Gerald sang out after me. -'Don't be conceited when they cheer you. I'm -thankful you're to be in my place.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, I don't mind saying, honestly, that, if I -could, I would have changed places with him then, -because old Gerald was such a splendid chap and -had done such grand things and I was only a -rotter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The 'Gnome' led me down through the Club, but -I seemed half dazed and didn't notice a soul there; -one of Gerald's horses was waiting for me outside -the arched gateway where I had first seen that little -beast, I got on his back, and then heard Ginger's -voice singing out, 'Buck up, old Billums! Bob -and I will hang round till you come back.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Buck up? I could have blubbed more easily as -I rode after the 'Gnome' with a couple of nigger -orderlies trotting behind me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Señor! Señor!' I heard the 'Gnome' mutter -imploringly, and saw him pushing up his own chin -with his finger and then pointing to mine, so I sat -more upright and held my head higher.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Directly we got into the main street, the place was -one seething mass of waving arms and flags, people -pressed round my horse and even kissed my gaiters, -and the whole air was alive with shouts of '</span><em class="italics">Viva Don -Geraldio!</em><span>' I tried to do what Gerald would have -done and smiled, and by the time we'd managed to -force a way through into the great square, the -shouting was really extraordinary. The people stopped -my horse, and if a very officious young cavalry officer -had not brought up a half-squadron of his men, I do -believe they would have pulled me off my saddle in -their excitement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, we got through them all right and -cantered up the road to San Sebastian, round which -the little brown forest-men were camped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My aunt! miserable as I was, it made my blood -dance to hear their shouts and to know how keen -they were on my brother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As I entered the fort across the drawbridge, -General Zorilla was waiting for me, clicked his heels -and saluted gravely as I dismounted. Then he took -me by the arm and led me away to an upper part -of the wall, where it was just broad enough for two -to walk abreast, and talked all the time—in Spanish, -of course—and, though I could not understand a -word, I guessed quickly that he'd taken me up there, -where no one else could come and try to talk to me, -and where all the people, both inside and outside the -fort, could see me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I thought that probably a rumour of Gerald's -having been shot by an assassin had spread, and -that old Zorilla feared what the forest-men would do -if they believed it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We walked solemnly up and down for, I should -think, quite twenty minutes, and then the President -drove up in a carriage, drawn by six white horses, -and it was time for the procession to start.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>General Zorilla gave some orders, and immediately -there was a stir among the little brown chaps. A -great column of them, quite two thousand I should -imagine by the time they took to pass beneath us, -wound round the fort and began marching down into -the town.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had cleaned themselves for the occasion, -looking quite spruce as they surged along that road, -their officers trying to make them keep some military -formation—with very little success. A few were -wearing those brown boots which they'd looted, but -most of them were barefooted, so made very little -noise on the hard ground, but, for all their lack of -uniform and discipline, their eyes were flashing -under their white hats and they bore themselves very -bravely. After them came another mob—men only -armed with </span><em class="italics">machetes</em><span>—the terrible little </span><em class="italics">machetos</em><span>, -immediately in front of the six white horses and the -President's carriage. Behind it was a space of about -fifty yards, where I was to go, and then came more -carriages with the Provisional Government, another -mob of wild </span><em class="italics">machetos</em><span>, two companies of sailors from -the ships, and those two hundred regulars who'd -helped me bring little Navarro and those guns -into San Fernando. I didn't know that they had -come along, and was jolly glad to see them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had been given the honour of dragging the -two pom-poms through the city—those two pom-poms -we had landed at San Fernando with the rest of the -'hydraulic machinery'—and seemed very proud of -the privilege.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To me, of course, they were the most interesting -part of the procession, and I wondered what they would -think if they knew that it was I who had untied their -arms that morning and brought them along through -the forest; but every one took it for granted that I was -Gerald, so it was no use wondering or pretending -to be myself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Behind them another huge column of riflemen -began to defile down into the road, but by this time -we had climbed down from the top of the wall, -Zorilla had mounted his black horse, I had got on -to mine, and we waited in the shade of the weather-beaten -walls of San Sebastian, with the muzzles of -their saluting guns sticking out above our heads, -till the last of Gerald's army had marched past, doing -their best to look like real soldiers whether they had -brown boots on or not, their eyes flashing fiercely, -and their shoulders well thrown back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thank God! they had hardly a cartridge among them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Zorilla motioned for me to ride on, so I cantered -away to my place behind the President's carriage, -the 'Gnome' close to me, and the two orderlies -coming after.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We got into the city just as the saluting guns began -firing, and the great cracked bell in the cathedral -began to set my nerves on edge—I hated the sound -of it. We got through the first appallingly hot -streets comfortably enough, but I scarcely noticed -anything, because I was thinking all the time of poor -old Gerald and how I could possibly write home -to tell the mater. I was getting intensely miserable, -wondering how the operation was going on, and -imagining those fat tobacco-stained fingers, with -the gold rings on them, cutting up old Gerald, when -the 'Gnome' startled me by riding up alongside, -saluting, and pointing to his chin, so I tried to buck -up and look like a victorious General. The 'Gnome' -smiled and dropped back again. I wonder what the -people thought he had said to me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As we got nearer the square, the massed bands -were making a terrific noise, and what with that and -the cheering, my little horse began to play the -ass—he knew I wasn't Gerald if no one else did and took -liberties. I got him in hand quickly enough, but -I must say that the cheering was sufficient to make -any animal lose his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The people were rather quiet when they saw the -little forest-men leading the procession, they rather -feared them and their terrible </span><em class="italics">machetes</em><span>, but began -cheering loudly when the President's carriage rolled -along, and then, as I passed, it was one continuous -roar of '</span><em class="italics">Viva Don Geraldio!</em><span>' from the dense sea of -heads and waving arms, on both sides of the streets, -behind the lines of regular troops, and from the -windows and even the roofs of the houses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I saw the President shift rather uneasily in his -seat as the shouting of Gerald's name drowned his -altogether, but he kept raising his hat and bowing -to left and right as if he was still the popular hero, -doing it so vigorously that I saw his collar getting -limp and the perspiration rolling down his neck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The little Secretary's face was a picture. I don't -know whether he knew whom I was, but I'm certain -that, even now, he was worrying lest I should -suddenly call on Gerald's army, seize the palace, and -become Dictator, and I'm perfectly sure that I could -have done it, or rather that Gerald could have done -it, without the least trouble.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Almost before I knew it, we were passing the -Hotel de l'Europe, and I looked up at that window -again. It was full of Europeans, and one of them -sang out, 'Three cheers for Gerald Wilson!' and -they waved their hats and gave three grand cheers—a -jolly homely sound it was, and I did wish that -dear old Gerald could have heard it. Then—well, -I did sit upright and tingled right down to Gerald's -boots, because one of them yelled, 'One more for -his brother!' that was for me, and they shouted, -'The two Wilsons!' and gave three grand cheers. -I wonder how the President enjoyed them!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I took Gerald's polo helmet off, waved it to them, -and saw them look puzzled, stretching their necks -over the balcony to have another look.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The 'Gnome' darted to my side, touching his hat -and shaking his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I knew well enough what he meant. My face -and hair showed just sufficiently under the polo -helmet, but I wasn't so much like Gerald without it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Still, it was grand to be myself for half a second -and hear those cheers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The carriage had stopped in front of the cathedral, -with its guard of insurgents, so I dismounted and -followed the President up the steps, at the top of -which the old Archbishop was waiting to receive -him—with uplifted hands, just as he had stood when -the coffin, with </span><em class="italics">La Buena Presidente</em><span> in it, had been -borne up those steps three months before. By his -side stood General Zorilla, grim and fierce-looking, -and I did so wish that I knew enough Spanish to -ask him, as a joke, whether he had any more of those -blue warrants knocking about him. I wondered if he -would have smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In we all went, the Provisional Government trooping -after us, and jolly glad I was to take off Gerald's -polo helmet and get into the cool for a few minutes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The cathedral was crowded with people, who stood -up as we entered and turned their faces towards us. -I saw some of them look surprised, and heard a -murmur of '</span><em class="italics">No! Don Geraldio!</em><span>' when they saw me, -and just as I was thinking what I ought to do, old -Zorilla put his hand on my shoulder, whispered -something in Spanish, and beckoned me out again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I guessed what was wrong, and clapped the helmet -on, but that wasn't it—Gerald's people were already -giving trouble. They were to have marched out to -some barracks, on the other side of the town, where -a huge meal had been prepared for them, but they -were still pouring into the square, pushing the -regulars and the people back against the railings -on the other side, and didn't show any inclination -to leave it, although I could see their officers, going -in among them, pointing away to where they should -have marched. They were calling out for Gerald; -all over the square I could hear his name being -called—it was most extraordinary; I could feel that -trouble was brewing; they looked like wild cattle -driven into a strange place, very nervous and -suspicious and liable at the least thing to stampede, and -I knew what would happen if they once got into a -panic. The regulars, too, looked 'jumpy,' uncertain -what they should do, and I saw some artillery men -stealthily opening an ammunition limber. The -townspeople were streaming out of the square as fast -as they could, and I knew that if a single shot was -fired, there'd be an awful massacre.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Zorilla made me get on my horse and we rode in -among them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Immediately they saw me they broke out into -wild huzzahs, and a fierce roar of '</span><em class="italics">Don Geraldio! -Don Geraldio! Viva Don Geraldio!</em><span>' simply filled -the square. Zorilla, smiling grimly, rode away, -evidently thinking that he was better out of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I knew what I was expected to do, the 'Gnome' -was at my side looking anxiously at me, so I nodded -to him, pointed across the square, and began forcing -my way among them in the direction they ought to -go. The 'Gnome' sang out half-a-dozen orders in -a stentorian voice, and the whole, huge, half-terrified, -half fierce-looking mob came along after us, as good -as gold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, that was simply another triumphal procession -for Gerald; the little </span><em class="italics">machetos</em><span> were all round me, -they fought for the honour of leading my horse, and, -thank goodness, I got them out of the square and -the city without anything going wrong.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old Zorilla had evidently gone ahead of me and -hidden away all the regulars, for there wasn't one -to be seen. We marched through absolutely deserted -streets, and though the little brown men hesitated a -moment, and began to look troubled and suspicious, -when, at last, we came to the barracks, the smell of -the food was so tempting that they poured in after me. -It was a huge rambling barracks, with an enormous -parade-ground, crowded with tables, and an army -of timid-looking people was waiting to serve food. -I stayed there half an hour till the little brown chaps -had forgotten all their grievances and suspicions, and -then I bolted back to the palace, where the official -banquet was to be held, and got through that all -right, being placed among the foreign Ministers, -who, of course, knew whom I was, and had heard -of Gerald having been shot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Arnstein, in his gorgeous uniform, bent over -to tell me that he'd heard that the operation was -going on all right, so that I was quite happy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every one was awfully nice to me about Gerald, -and about my having taken his place successfully, -but after lunch I wanted to get away, though I could -not do so, for some time, because of every one -wanting to congratulate me. Captain Roger Hill actually -came up, too, but I'd been Gerald all the morning, -I still had his clothes on, and, somehow or other, I -felt like him and was very 'stand off the grass' when -he tried to patronise me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fortunately, old Zorilla came to the rescue, his -eyes gleaming very curiously, and he led me away -to where a closed carriage was waiting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We drove away from the palace, and when we'd -got some distance off, he put his hand inside his -tunic and pulled out—what do you think?—a blue -packet—another of those warrants—and handed it -to me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the exact counterpart of the one which I -had torn up that day in the Hotel de l'Europe, with -Gerald's name written in among the printing, only -this had Alvarez de Costa scrawled across the bottom -instead of José Canilla.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Phew! my heart began thumping and I caught -my breath for a moment, but Zorilla took it out -of my hands, shrugged his shoulders, and began -tearing it into little bits and throwing them out of -the carriage window, one by one.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I simply hugged his thin old hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What a beastly cad de Costa was. Riding behind -him, two hours ago, I thought he meant mischief, -and now I knew that he'd only been waiting till -Gerald's men were safely outside the city again. I -really don't know whether he had heard of Gerald's -wound, and knew that I was only his brother or not, -but if he had heard of it, I hated him all the -more—the miserable ungrateful coward!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently the carriage stopped outside a big house, -and Zorilla took me in through the courtyard. It -turned out to be his own house, and Dr. Robson, -Ginger, and Bob were there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'How's Gerald?' I sang out, and gave a whoop -of joy when Dr. Robson said, 'We found several -holes to stitch up, I don't think we missed any, so I -hope he'll do well.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stopped me making an ass of myself, 'Your -brother is upstairs, you can't see him yet.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fancy Zorilla having taken him to his own house! -Wasn't that just what you'd have expected of the -dear old man?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was so brimming over with anger about the -warrant that, for a second or two, I had an insane -idea of riding off to those barracks and bringing -back Gerald's men, seizing the palace and the -President, and proclaiming Gerald Dictator. I'm -certain that if only I'd known a few words of Spanish -I could have done it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I don't know whether Zorilla guessed what I was -thinking about, but I caught him watching my face, -smiling very grimly, and then he said, 'Inglese -Minister com',' and took me away in his carriage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We found him, and Zorilla evidently explained -what had happened, for he said, 'Don't bother your -head about your brother; if Zorilla won't execute the -warrant, no one else will, and no one will dare to -disturb him while he's in the General's house.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He drove back with us, and then the two of them -went away to the palace and had a pretty stormy -interview with the President, leaving me to potter -about with Bob and Ginger till it was possible to see -old Gerald. They came back again before I was -allowed to go into his room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We reduced him to pulp,' the British Minister -said; 'he caved in immediately, and apologised to -both of us. Zorilla threatened to bring in the -insurgent troops and his own regulars and make -him a prisoner if he didn't immediately cancel the -warrant and re-appoint your brother Commander-in-Chief. -He was petrified with funk and wriggled out -of it like the ungainly toad he is.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Dr. Robson called out that Gerald was -asking for me, so I went softly upstairs into a big -bedroom, where he lay, his face very puffy, with a -nun on each side of his bed, looking after him. They -dropped their eyes as I bowed. José was crouched -in a corner gleaming at me like a faithful dog.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I </span><em class="italics">am</em><span> so glad,' was all I could say, as I gripped -Gerald's hand under the clothes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Everything go off well?' he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Yes, grand! the cheers for you made more noise -than anything else.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'De Costa will be getting jealous,' he smiled -feebly. 'How did my chaps behave?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Had a little trouble getting them out of the city -again,' I told him; 'but I went with them, and as -soon as they smelt the grub in the barracks, they -bolted for it.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He smiled again, 'Good little chaps!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course I did not tell him of that warrant.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'If he gets over the first three or four days safely -he'll be all right,' Dr. Robson told me; and before -the British Minister went away, I implored him to -try and get leave for me to stay in Santa Cruz till -then. He was awfully decent, drove straight away -to the Club, found Captain Roger Hill, got leave not -only for me but for Cousin Bob, and made us stay at -his house too—which was jolly kind of him. As it -was not far from General Zorilla's house we could -very often run in to see Gerald for a few minutes at -a time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They sent our clothes up from the ship, and as -Gerald went on very well indeed, we had quite a good -time; but on the second day after he'd been shot, I -had to get into my brother's things and lead his little -brown chaps down to Los Angelos. They wouldn't -go without him, were getting troublesome again, and -the city was in deadly fear lest they should still take -it into their heads to sack the place. The little chaps -still took me for Gerald whilst I was on horseback, -with his polo helmet jammed down over my head, -but I don't imagine that most of the officers did so. -They pretended that I was Gerald in order to keep -their men under control, and were much too anxious -to get back to their homes and plantations in the -provinces to give the show away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The 'Gnome' and José both came with me to help -the deception, and I heard the 'Gnome' give a great -sigh of relief when, eventually, the last of Gerald's -men were put aboard those transports inside the -breakwater. As each transport steamed out of the -harbour, the little Santa Cruz ships cheered wildly -and the men cheered back, '</span><em class="italics">Viva los Horizontals!' -'Viva de Costa!' 'Viva Don Geraldio!</em><span>' and as the -last one steamed slowly round the lighthouse and -passed the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>, I could still hear cries of '</span><em class="italics">Viva -Don Geraldio!' 'Viva los Inglesas!</em><span>'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I stood on the wharf for some time, watching the -transports steaming along the coast, some northwards, -the others to the south, and I really felt very sorry to -see the last of the little chaps with whom I had gone -through so many exciting days. I could see that the -'Gnome,' however relieved he was for them to go -away, felt as I did, and they seemed to have had so -little reward for all they'd done in the last three -months that you couldn't help feeling that, after all -their pluck and hardships, they hadn't gained much -for themselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We rode slowly up the mountain to Santa Cruz, -and at that sharp turning, where we had seen the -yellow and green flag last flying, we stopped and for -a minute watched the transports, little smoky dots on -the glistening sea, a thousand feet below us, as they -carried the brave little chaps to their homes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the fifth morning after the operation, Bob -and I had to wish Gerald good-bye, and go back to -the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>. He was going on grandly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You'll have a pretty big job as Commander-in-Chief -when you get well,' I said jokingly, but he -shook his head. 'No, Billums! I shall chuck it and -try and make some money on the estate again. I'm -rather bored with revolutions and fighting just at -present, and want to get away from here. I'll get -that little chap you call the "Gnome" to come -with me, and I'll see if I can't pay off some of my -debts.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No one had told Gerald about the warrant, so it -wasn't funk which made him think of leaving Santa -Cruz, and you can guess how pleased I was to hear -him say this, and how jolly pleased the mater would -be too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We've had an exciting three months of it, old -chap, haven't we? but I'm going to take a rest. -We've done all this fighting and killing, marching -and starving, and we've only turned out one bad -President to put another, just as bad, in his place. -The game's not worth the candle.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the back of my mind I really thought the same, -and I only hoped that he would still stick to his -determination when he did get strong again. I had -to leave him there, in Zorilla's house—with the two -nuns and José to look after him—and Bob and I -rode, for the last time, through that square.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dear old Zorilla had lent us horses, and he and -the 'Gnome' came with us along the road past San -Sebastian and beyond the spot where Bob, the 'Angel,' -and I had knocked over the carriage with the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>' -midshipmen, right along till the road began to drop -down towards Los Angelos.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I shook the old man's hand—I felt that Gerald -would be safe with him—and I gripped the 'Gnome's' -hand too; it was all I could do, for we could not speak -each other's languages, and we rode away. At the -next turning we looked back and they were still there, -watching us, the General on his big black horse and -the 'Gnome' on a little white one—showing up against -the sky. We waved our hats, they gravely waved -theirs, and that was the last we saw of them. We -both felt intensely miserable, and didn't say a word -for quite half an hour, when Bob at last said, 'Do -you know what those two remind me of?—the picture -of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I smiled at him. No knight of old could have -been a grander chap than was old Zorilla, and I -thought of what the British Minister had told me just -before we left him. 'The first time in his life that -old Zorilla has ever been known to disobey an order -was when he tore your brother's warrant into pieces.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Funnily enough, the one thing that always makes -me feel so glad, when I now think of this three -months, was that I rescued his black horse, and was -the means of him getting it back again.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-hector-goes-home"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The </span><em class="bold italics large">Hector</em><span class="bold large"> goes Home</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Written by Sub-Lieutenant William Wilson, R.N.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>I have not much more to tell you.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> went off to Bermuda the morning -after Bob and I had come back from Santa Cruz, and -we waited on deck till the long lines of towering black -mountains were lost to sight. I couldn't bear to leave -Gerald up among them, although he was in Zorilla's -house, and practically out of danger, as far as the -wound was concerned, but I'd learnt enough about -politics, and the way they were 'run' in the Republic, -to feel sure that his greatest danger lay in the jealousy -of the New President, and that he would never be -safe in the country—not even if he did resign the -Command of the forces.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We ran through the 'Narrows' five days later -and anchored in Grassy Bay, off the naval dockyard -of Ireland Island, Bermuda. It was rather a shock -to see the poor old </span><em class="italics">Hector's</em><span> two funnels and damaged -foremast sticking up behind the dockyard wall, and I -noticed that Bob and one or two of the others looked -very white when they saw them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As soon as the repairs to her ward-room had been -completed the officers moved out of the gun-room, -and I and my mids. were sent aboard her again. It -didn't make much difference to me, but a good many -of the mids. did not like going back a little bit. The -still half-dismantled ship had too many sad memories -for them, and I am sorry to say that Cousin Bob -began to mope again—everything reminded him too -much of his poor little chum.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every morning, before breakfast, I made them all -run round the dockyard to Moresby Plain, for a -hockey practice, below the little Naval Club, and -whilst we remained here we had two very pleasant -games against the </span><em class="italics">Hercules'</em><span> gun-room, but as we had -none to fill, properly, the 'Angel's' place at 'centre-half,' -or Barton's at 'outside-right,' were beaten both -times.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What a difference, Ginger, old chap,' I said, as we -watched them scrambling into the tea-house together, -after the match, just as chummy as they could be.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Difference!' Perkins, who was standing near us, -said, smiling, 'I should think it was a difference. -They won't leave a thimbleful of tea or a bun in the -place, and I shall have to go without any, I suppose.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's taken a good deal to make 'em friends, hasn't -it?' Ginger said sadly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A fortnight later Gerald sent me a telegram, as he -had promised, to say that he was allowed out of bed, -and I knew that he had sent the same message home -to the mater, and felt awfully glad.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nothing more happened at Bermuda worth telling -about; we had to work very hard indeed; in six -weeks' time the ship was seaworthy enough to steam -home, and one beautiful Sunday morning in May, -the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span> and ourselves anchored behind Plymouth -breakwater.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As you can imagine, the poor old </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span> was -a great object of curiosity, and paddle-boats were -bringing people off from shore, and steaming round -her, all day long.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next morning two dockyard tugs made fast -alongside us, we slipped our moorings, and as their -paddles began churning the water and we commenced -to move up harbour, Captain Roger Hill unbent, for -the first time in his life, and 'cheered ship.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Three cheers for the </span><em class="italics">Hector</em><span>,' we heard his -Commander shout, and the whole crew swarmed on -the upperworks and sent us three great cheers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Tut, tut, lad!' our Skipper stuttered, dropping -his eyeglass, '"Old Spats" has forgotten himself. -Look at him! He's actually waving his cap.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He nodded to the Commander, whose great roaring -voice bellowed out, 'Three cheers for Captain Roger -Hill and the </span><em class="italics">Hercules</em><span>,' and we all shouted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We were taken up harbour and put into dry dock -immediately, and we heard that we should probably -stay there for several months.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As soon as it could be arranged, we got up a -subscription for a tablet to the memory of all our -people who'd been killed in that fight with </span><em class="italics">La -Buena Presidente</em><span>, and got permission to place it in -Portsmouth Dockyard Chapel, where you can see it now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were, unfortunately, a great number of -names to go on it—Montague, Clegg, Bigge, Pearson, -the 'Forlorn Hope' and his chum the 'Shadow' -(whose name was put there because he died as a -result of the fight), Barton, the 'Angel,' Marchant -(the Inkslinger), the cheery, good-tempered, little -Captain's Clerk, and below these the names of fifty-four -men—several had died of their wounds at Princes' -Town Colonial Hospital.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cousin Bob still moped and slept badly, often -waking the whole of the gun-room flat by shrieking -in his sleep, so that I worried very much about him. -I told the Captain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, boy! What d'you want me to do? The -Fleet Surgeon has been speaking about him too.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I think it would be best to send him home for as -long as you can, sir,' I said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Right oh, lad! Tell him to leave his address -and I'll wire for him when I want him. Have a bit -of lunch?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I stayed to lunch with him, and we talked about -Gerald.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Grand chap! grand chap! a little too haughty -for me. Grand chap though—never thanked me for -taking him that hydraulic machinery.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But he never thought you knew about it, sir,' I -said, surprised.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He polished his eyeglass very carefully, screwed it -into his eye, and then very deliberately winked at me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I shipped Cousin Bob off home that very day -and was jolly glad to get him away from the ship, -although, as a matter of fact, I need not have been in -such a hurry, because all the mids. were sent to other -ships a few days later. Still he managed to get a -little longer leave than the others, and I had a very -grateful letter from his sister Daisy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had a long letter, too, from Gerald some time -afterwards. He had gone back to the rubber plantation -with José and the 'Gnome,' and said that he was -jolly glad to get back there again, start rebuilding -the house and planting more trees, but I feared that -he was of much too restless a disposition to remain -there for long.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old Zorilla had taken on his job as Commander-in-Chief, -and Gerald said that things were going -on swimmingly, though what actual difference the -change of President had made, he was hanged if he -could tell. Little Navarro was limping about Santa -Cruz as cheerful as ever, and every one wanted to -be remembered to me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, however long I live, I shall never forget them.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>ON FOREIGN SERVICE</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><span>A Word from Project Gutenberg</span></h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We will update this book if we find any errors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book can be found under: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/45914"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/45914</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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