WITHIN THE CAVARALE PRISON.
"LOOK here, Dacres, I won't have you running this risk," said
Whittinghame when his subordinate unfolded his plan for investigating
the place of captivity of Admiral Maynebrace and his compatriots in
misfortune.
"There'll be no risk," replied Dacres. "That is, if I act with a
reasonable amount of caution. Besides, I want to have another little
game with old Maynebrace--bless his grey hair!"
Whittinghame shrugged his shoulders deprecatingly. "How long do you
reckon this mad freak of yours will take?" he asked.
"If we leave here at daybreak to-morrow we ought to be back at the
end of the fifth day. It's only half a day's journey to La Paz
railway station, so de la Fosse informs me. We'll have to hire a
couple of Indians to carry our professional gear and clothing, so as
to give more colour to the scheme. Henri could take some of his
father's men, only they might start talking about the stranded
airships and give rise to suspicions."
"Honestly I don't like your scheme, Dacres, but since you think it's
feasible and its results will be beneficial to our proposed
operations I suppose I mustn't raise any more objections."
Henri de la Fosse entered into the project with the greatest
eagerness. He, too, had cause to hate the present Valderian
government like poison.
Had it not been for Zaypuru and Durango, the Frenchman and his two
sons would have been able to attain their desires and return to their
native country long ago. The revolution had practically ruined de la
Fosse. His accumulated earnings had been fraudulently appropriated.
He was almost without sufficient means to pay his passage back to
Marseilles. He had, therefore, been obliged to remain in Valderia,
working desperately at his profession in the hope of being able, to
some extent, to retrieve his lost fortune.
When Whittinghame requested Antoine de la Fosse to name a sum for
repairing the wireless gear the little Frenchman waxed indignant. He
would take nothing, he replied proudly. It was a pleasurable task to
be able to assist the Englishmen in their effort against Zaypuru and
Durango.
Whittinghame was equally indignant. Finally the matter was
compromised. Should Dacres' adventure prove a success, and should the
"Meteor" contrive to rescue the prisoners from the Cavarale, de la
Fosse was to put forward a claim on the British Government, and
Whittinghame would back it up for all he was worth.
Antoine de la Fosse realized that he was making a great sacrifice in
allowing his son to go to Naocuanha. Had it not been for the fact
that he himself was the only one capable of effecting the delicate
repairs to the wireless gear he would have insisted on being Dacres'
companion. But having Dacres' assurance that in the event of
detection the Englishman would accept all responsibility his doubts
were set aside.
"Are you disguising yourself?" asked Whittinghame, for his comrade
was turning out the contents of a small portmanteau in which the
extraordinary "get up" he had worn on board the flagship was
conspicuous.
"No," replied Dacres. "At least, not with false moustaches or
whiskers. It would be too risky: the things might come adrift while I
was fooling about pretending to take measurements."
"But we must take certain possibilities into the question," continued
Whittinghame. "Suppose, for instance, Durango has, in spite of our
surmises to the contrary, returned to Naocuanha?"
"Hardly likely," replied Dacres. "Had he done so we should have had a
crowd of Valderian soldiers buzzing about before this."
The eventful morning came round. Antoine de la Fosse was to go with
Dacres and Henri as far as the place where the mules had been left in
charge of an Indian servant.
"By the by," remarked Whittinghame casually. "You haven't forgotten a
rule. You must have one if you have to take measurements, you know."
"I'll get one," said Dacres, and presently he returned with a
two-foot rule in his hand.
"If it weren't a very serious matter, Dacres, I'd simply roar with
laughter," declared the Captain of the "Meteor." "I asked you simply
to see what you'd do, and you've simply given the whole show away.
Imagine a supposed Frenchman taking measurements in a country where
the metric system is in force and using a British two-foot rule."
Dacres flushed under his tanned features.
"By Jove! I must be more careful."
"You must, not only on your account but for the sake of your
companion. It's a good thing de la Fosse didn't see what you were up
to."
Amid the hearty good wishes and farewells of the "Meteor's" officers
and men Dacres and Henri, attired in sombreros, loose grey shirts,
buckskin trousers, and native shoes fitted with formidable-looking
spurs, set out on their hazardous enterprise.
Soon Dacres found himself in the high-peaked saddle of a mule.
Although fairly docile as mules go, this animal required a
considerable amount of skill on the part of the rider. Like most
sailors Dacres rode awkwardly, hanging on more by good luck than good
management, the performance causing the high-spirited Henri no end of
amusement, especially when the inapt rider was slung out into the
dust no less than three times during the first half hour.
"Pardon me, monsieur, I cannot help it," said young de la Fosse
apologetically, although tears of laughter were trickling down his
face.
"Neither can I," replied Dacres as he picked himself up and essayed
to clamber into the awkward saddle.
"But if you ride thus into La Paz the Valderians will have
suspicions," resumed Henri doubtfully. "In Valderia everyone rides
superbly."
"I'll manage the brute all right long before we get to La Paz,"
declared Dacres stoutly. "Gee up, you rascal!"
Evidently the Valderian mule strongly objected to being urged on in
English, for his hind-quarters suddenly reared. Dacres found himself
rising in the air. Clearing the pommel by a few inches he alighted on
the animal's crupper, whence he cannoned off into a particularly
prickly clump of cacti.
Leaping from his saddle Henri handed the reins to his companion, then
devoting his attention to the refractory mule he made it trot round
and round in a small circle until the youth was almost ready to drop
with sheer giddiness. This treatment also proved most subduing to the
mule, for from that time Dacres had no further trouble.
The road to La Paz was with few exceptions mostly down hill. In
places it wound round forbidding spurs of the mountains, where a
false step would send animal and rider into the almost fathomless
depths below.
So narrow was the track that Dacres wondered what would happen if
they met persons coming in the opposite direction.
"That is easily managed," replied Henri when his companion expressed
his doubts. "We would dismount. The other travellers would do
likewise. We speak with them; they speak with us. There is no hurry
in these parts. Then the mules going that way would crouch down, and
the mules coming this way would step over them. It is so simple when
one knows how."
"Thanks, I would rather not have any," remarked Dacres, and later on
he reiterated his thanks when he found himself once more in open
country.
Feeling so stiff that he could scarcely dismount Dacres arrived at La
Paz. The mules were handed over to the care of a most
villainous-looking innkeeper, and their baggage given to four
miserable-looking Indians, who for a few centavos could be engaged to
act as servants.
While waiting for the train to start--it would be a fortunate event
if it left the station within an hour of the supposed time--Henri,
who spoke Spanish excellently, made several judicious inquiries of
the men who were loafing about--for leaning against the adobe walls
and smoking huge cigars seemed the total occupation of the visible
inhabitants of La Paz.
When at length the train started on its journey to the capital, young
de la Fosse had an opportunity of communicating to his companion the
news he had gathered from the loungers at the station.
If it were true the situation looked very grave. There were reports
that a battle had been fought outside the town of Zandovar between
the gallant Valderians and the invaders. The British had been
compelled to retreat to their ships, leaving over five hundred men
prisoners in the hands of the victors. More, two English battleships
had been sunk by mines, and the rest had stood out to sea.
Dacres simply roared. The rumours were so utterly unlikely.
"It may be true," said Henri gravely. "The best generalled armies
make the mistake at times. The Italians at Adowah, the Russians in
Manchuria, and the English in South Africa, _par exemple._"
"Then, if it is true we'll find the Cavarale chock-a-block with
British prisoners," said Dacres. "So we'll wait and see."
When, after a slow and irksome journey, the train entered Naocuanha
station, Dacres and his companion were pounced upon and questioned by
half a dozen gaudily-uniformed officials. Their pass had to be
examined, signed and countersigned by men who could hardly write
their names, their baggage being searched, and even the contents of
their pockets scrutinized. Dacres realized that had he attempted to
don artificial hair and whiskers as a disguise he would have been
detected before he left the platform.
At length the ordeal was passed, and escorted by four soldiers the
two "electrical experts" made their way to an hotel.
The city of Naocuanha was under martial law. There were troops--for
the most part ill-clad, ill-armed, and badly disciplined--everywhere.
Most of the shops were shut, and had their windows boarded up. In
several places barricades had been thrown across the streets and
machine guns placed in position. The steam-cars and public vehicles
had either been kept in their sheds or pressed into military service.
Everywhere notices were posted up, warning the civil population to be
in their houses by sunset under pain of fine and imprisonment.
"This doesn't look like a British reverse," thought Dacres. "The
whole crowd of them are in a mortal funk. That's quite evident."
Acting on his companion's advice Dacres feigned a bad headache on
their arrival at the hotel and promptly went to bed. Until Henri felt
fairly certain that none of the guests--who, fortunately, were few in
number--understood French it was advisable for the pseudo-electrician
to keep to himself.
All night long bugles were blaring and drums beating. The garrison of
Naocuanha were evidently expecting an attack from the British forces
in possession of Zandovar. Consequently Dacres spent a restless
night, while the swarms of mosquitos that found their way in through
the rents in the mosquito curtains of his bed added to his
discomfort.
Next morning, after Henri had paid a compulsory visit to the
commandante's office, the two men, with their Indian servants, set
out for the Cavarale.
The prison stood about two miles from the city. It occupied an
isolated position, being on a broad grassy plain. The building was of
rectangular formation with squat square towers at the four corners.
It was surrounded at a distance of twenty feet from the main walls by
a mud and rubble wall surmounted by a _chevaux de frise._
In the centre of this outer enclosure on the city side was a gateway
with an adobe hut close by; but this entrance was apparently
neglected, for the gate stood wide open, and no one seemed to be on
guard.
In the intervening space ran a dry ditch crossed by a broad wooden
bridge leading to the inner gateway.
This was a more imposing affair, the stone archway being surmounted
by the arms of the republic. The door was of very massive wood and
pierced by a wicket. On either side were loopholes so that the
approach could be commanded by rifle fire if necessary; while above
each of the four towers grinned the barrels of an old type of machine
gun of the Nordenfeldt pattern.
Pacing up and down the parapet or else lolling in the shade of the
towers were several sentries, each with the inevitable cigar or
cigarette in his mouth. They eyed the approaching strangers with
apparent unconcern, making no attempt to challenge them.
Directly Henri pulled the bell the wicket was opened and a serjeant
gruffly demanded to know the business of the two strangers.
In reply young de la Fosse pulled out the pass and presented it. The
fellow took the document, pretended to read it while holding it
upside down, and calling to a soldier who happened to be standing
close by, bade him hand the pass to the serjeant of the guard.
Apparently, this non-commissioned officer could make no more of it
than did his subordinate; but, throwing aside his cigar, he leisurely
strolled off to the quarters of the commandante of the prison.
Half an hour later the Frenchman and the pseudo compatriot were
permitted to enter. An empty store was allotted for the reception of
their belongings, and the Indians were told to remain there until
wanted.
"You remain also," said Henri in a low voice to Dacres. "I have to
see the commandante."
Presently Henri returned with a bundle of papers, showing the general
plan of the prison on a large scale, and the various parts that it
was proposed to fit with electric lighting apparatus.
To show undue energy would arouse suspicion, so the two electricians
spent quite an hour in ostentatiously examining the documents before
proceeding with the actual work of "measuring up."
Then, having offered a cigarette to the soldier told off to attend on
them, Henri and Dacres made their way to the _patio_ or courtyard in
the centre of the quadrangle.
While busy with the tape Dacres kept his eyes wide open. Evidently
three sides of the building were intended for the prisoners'
quarters, for they were lighted by small square windows heavily
barred and at a height of twenty feet from the ground. The remaining
side was in the occupation of the troops who formed the joint rôle of
garrison and jailers, while in one corner of the _patio_ and farthest
remote from the entrance was a stone building in which the
commandante of the prison lived. It was two-storyed, with a flat
roof, from which a light gangway communicated with the flats of the
quarters surrounding the quadrangle. A covered way also led from the
commandante's residence to the guard room.
"The commandante says that he is busy to-day and does not wish to be
disturbed by having men to measure the rooms of his house," said
Henri, "so that will be much better for us. We can go sooner to the
quarters of the prisoners."
"Very good," assented Dacres.
They conversed in English, since Dacres was a precious bad French
scholar. There was no need to do otherwise since de la Fosse, by a
simple, seemingly aimless question to the soldier who accompanied
them, found out that he understood no language but his own.
Having finished their ostentatious work in the _patio_, Henri tapped
the plan he held in his hand and pointed significantly towards the
prison-buildings.
The soldier shrugged his shoulders indifferently, then slouched
towards the door. In response to a knock the door was opened by a
fierce-looking mulatto who, apparently satisfied that the two
foreigners were properly escorted, passed them in without further
ado.
The prison was two-storyed. The cells on the ground floor were not
lighted from without, and were constructed for the reception of
common criminals. Recently these occupants had been transferred _en
bloc_ to the civil prison in Naocuanha, and consequently they were
now unoccupied. The political and foreign prisoners were distributed
in cells on the upper story, to the number of nearly a hundred. Of
these nine were Englishmen, including the two who were arrested
before the outbreak of hostilities, and whose detention formed one of
the principal causes of the rupture between Great Britain and the
republic of Valderia. In addition to the nine were partisans of the
late President San Bonetta who, having escaped the extreme measures
adopted by the ferocious Diego Zaypuru, were still in rigorous
confinement and in constant fear of being summoned to execution.
Fearing to cause suspicions by asking where the British prisoners
were lodged, Dacres and his companion had to take each cell in order,
measuring the distance from the centre of the corridor, and the
height of the position of the proposed lamp. To hurry over the task
would raise doubts in the officials' minds as to the _bona fides_ of
the avowed electricians. Thus the short working-day ended without
Dacres having an opportunity of entering into communication with any
of his former brother-officers.
On the following day the prospect looked brighter, since there was no
needless delay in the _patio._ Don Alonzo da Costa, the commandante,
was still indisposed to allow the electricians to enter his quarters,
so, thankfully, Dacres and his companion resumed their tedious tour
of the cells.
At length the jailer unlocked the door of a cell situated in the
north-east angle of the building, and the two engineers solemnly
filed into the room.
It was slightly larger than the others, but sparely furnished, the
latter consisting of a plain deal table and chair, and an iron
cot-frame, on the foot of which were two rolled blankets and a thin
straw mattress.
As the men entered a stentorian voice exclaimed,
"Bless my soul, Dacres, what on earth are you doing here?"
The speaker was his late chief, Rear-Admiral Maynebrace.