THE ATTACK ON THE CONSULATE
Corporal Dorlan on making the rounds of his little force shortly after
taps noticed the Ardois lights from the _Denver_ were flashing
regularly. Not being an adept signalman he sought Trumpeter Cabell, who
was trying to snatch a little sleep on the back piazza of the consulate,
and shook him into wakefulness.
"Come, me lad, shake a leg, for the ship is callin' of us, and I want ye
to read the message."
"Be with you in a jiffy," said Henry, going to get the lantern, which he
had already put to good use in the earlier part of the evening.
Soon he was acknowledging the call, and the message Corporal Dorlan
noted down as Henry called off the letters caused the veteran many a
chuckle of satisfaction. It was a long message, and immediately it was
finished Dorlan and Henry shook hands over it in great glee.
"I knew that lad would turn the trick, and come out on top," remarked
the older man as he entered the house in search of Senor Perez.
In the center of the building was a room, which, because of past
revolutions, the Consul had prepared against the chance of stray
bullets. It was but a makeshift affair, but it had served its purpose
on many occasions, and during times of danger the family always occupied
it. Around the walls of this compartment rows of iron-wood railroad
ties were placed from the floor to ceiling and these tough native
timbers could be counted upon to stop the leaden bullets used in the
guns with which the opposing factions were generally armed. Corporal
Dorlan's knock at the door of the "strong room," as it was called, was
immediately answered by the Consul.
"'Tis the 'best of news I have for ye, sir," he said, and his face shone
with delight. "Yer little daughter is safe and sound aboard the
_Denver_. It seems that our drummer boy, Dick Comstock, followed them
rascals what stole her, and he's just now got her away from 'em and is
back on the ship. After ye give yer wife the good news I've got
somethin' important to tell ye, and the quicker the sooner, sir." With
that the thoughtful fellow closed the door and impatiently awaited the
Consul's reappearance.
Soon the little man came out and, running up to Dorlan, he embraced the
marine in true European fashion by kissing him on both cheeks, much to
the old fellow's embarrassment.
"Your good tidings have made me the happiest man in the world, whereas,
but a short time since, I was the most miserable," said the Consul, and
he again threatened Dorlan with another exhibition of his enthusiasm,
but this time the marine evaded it.
"That's all right, yer honor, but we can't be talkin' of that now.
There's other doin's afoot this night, and with yer help we can do a
neat stroke of work to cap the climax of this day's excitement."
Thereupon he outlined his plan, and an understanding having been reached
Senor Perez returned to his wife, while Dorlan made mysterious visits to
each member of his little force. He then distributed them to his
satisfaction about the house and grounds. All the lights were
extinguished except a low-burning lamp in the spacious hallway, and then
he sat down to wait behind the closed front door, much as a cat sits
before the mouse hole she knows will soon be the scene of some lively
action.
Since the end of the message from the ship not a light other than the
usual anchor lights could be discerned by the closest observer on the
shore. Nor could activity of any kind be noted, but as a matter of fact
khaki-clad marines were even then silently embarking in one of the
cutters and under muffled oars were pulling towards the landing pier.
And from the opposite side of the ship three boat-loads of bluejackets
were as silently doing the same thing--but, pulling in the opposite
direction, en route to a little barrio less than three kilometers down
the coast.
General Fernando Gonzales at the head of his picket force of thirty men
halted on the beach road and looked out over the waters at the ship. He
heard the beautiful notes of the bugle sounding the soldiers and sailors
good-night, and he saw the lights, which had been flickering at the
masthead for so long, cease punctuating the darkness. With their
cessation he felt reasonably certain that the crew had a feeling of
security, and that they felt that everything ashore must be going well,
for the big search-light was not shining as on previous nights. He did
not understand the meaning of the red and white lights, nor know that
they were just finishing a message regarding his whereabouts at that
very moment. Such signals were unknown in the armies of San Domingo.
Already the people of Sanchez were closing their doors and windows; soon
the streets would be deserted. Leaving his men concealed, General
Gonzales ventured forth in the direction of the consulate for a little
preliminary scouting. It was high time his brother and Juan Mendoza
were at the rendezvous, but their non-arrival caused him no great
uneasiness. The street before the Consul's home was also deserted, and
he approached the place boldly. As he passed the gate the lights in the
house were turned out,--the family of Senor Perez had retired. A few
yards beyond the last few members of the Club were closing the door and
leaving for their homes. He decided to wait no longer. Calling his
men, he soon stationed them in the hedge and shrubbery surrounding the
consulate, then with his chosen half dozen villains he approached the
front entrance and mounting the broad piazza he knocked loudly. Finally
the door opened a few inches and the face of Senor Perez appeared.
"Who are you, and what do you want at this hour of the night?" said the
Consul in a voice he tried hard to control.
"I wish to talk with you, Senor, on a matter of great importance to us
both. Let me in."
"Who are you?" again came in inquiry, though the father knew well that
this was the man who had caused him so much heartache that day.
"I am General Fernando Gonzales, and if you do not admit me without
further talk I will shoot you," and a long-barreled revolver was shoved
ominously through the opening into the face of the consul, who fell back
into the dimly lighted hall. In a moment the General and six followers
rushed in, well pleased over the success of their operations thus far.
Was it a sudden draft of wind which closed the door so softly behind
them? Gonzales never had time nor thought to inquire, for suddenly the
large room became a blaze of light, and he found himself staring into
the leveled muzzles of six gun barrels in the hands of Dorlan's men.
"Hands up, ye spalpeens!" called out the voice of the Corporal, and
though not a man there understood his words they did understand the
menace in the voice, and in a twinkling there were fourteen dirty brown
and black hands held tremblingly aloft.
[Illustration: "HANDS UP!"]
"Take them guns and knives, and throw them in the corner, me lad," now
ordered Dorlan, and Henry began to disarm the rebels. It was then that
the leader Gonzales, knowing what would be his fate if he were turned
over to the government troops, made a break for liberty.
Although he put up his hands with the rest he still held in his right
hand the revolver he had carried on entering. Now with a wild yell the
negro half-breed fired one shot into the air, another in the general
direction of the Consul, and as he dashed for a window near by he fired
the remaining four shots at the marines lined up across the hall. On
reaching the window he unhesitatingly jumped through the flimsy lattice
work which guarded it, and was running across the lawn before the house.
The sudden attack of the negro so surprised most of the marines, who
were not looking for any active resistance after the men had thrown up
their hands, that there was an appreciable moment of inactivity which
held back their fire. But not so with Henry, for with the first shot of
the rebel chief, the trumpeter had pulled his automatic from the
holster, and as Gonzales jumped through the window he fired two shots.
One of those bullets found a resting place in the fleshy part of the
native's leg. The impetus of Gonzales' rush carried him on, but now he
stumbled and called upon his followers hidden in the bushes to come to
his assistance. Again he stumbled, this time falling headlong into a
flower bed. As he attempted to rise, a figure in khaki rose in front of
him; there was the flash of a clubbed rifle, then the weapon descended
with crushing force on the general's skull, and he sank to the ground.
The days of General Fernando Gonzales as a rebel chief were ended.
From all sides came a fusillade of shots. The bullets tore their way
through wooden walls or spattered on the tin roof of the building, but
harmed no one. From the fort on the hill came the sound of high pitched
bugles sounding the alarm, while flashes of light and the sound of guns
showed the government troops were as usual wasting ammunition by firing
at nothing in particular and everything in general.
Then a red star shot up from the main road a little to the west of the
consulate; there came a rush of heavy shoes on the macadam, a rattle of
accoutrements, and First Sergeant Douglass at the head of the remainder
of the _Denver's_ guard charged down the road. Again the search-light
of the ship flooded the shore and then, without waiting to see what had
befallen their leader, the rebels took to their heels and fled.
It was daylight before the excitement in the town subsided, but by then
it was known that the hold of the rebels over the inhabitants was
effectually broken. The General was dead, his brother, his lieutenant,
Juan Mendoza, and the six others were turned over to the custody of the
Federal troops. As for those rebels in camp at the barrio, they too had
been dispersed, for when the landing party of sailors, guided by Dick,
reached the shore near the barrio and demanded the surrender of the
deserter Choiniski they fled incontinently, fearing an attack from the
Americanos, which they did not relish.
When a search of the barrio and the hut in the grove was made it was
found that Joe had either taken the opportunity to escape or the rebels
had taken him with them into the hills, for the place was deserted. The
only persons remaining behind were the native boy Columbus, his crippled
father and his mother. On learning how well the urchin had assisted
Dick, and how the rebels had treated the poor peons, a very substantial
purse was collected by the kind-hearted men and presented to the lad's
mother, and the landing party was then towed back to the ship.
It was Dick Comstock's privilege to escort little Soledad ashore at an
hour shortly after sunrise, and though Senor Perez was too much overcome
to thank the rescuer of his favorite, Dick felt fully rewarded just to
witness that joyful reunion.
Reports now began coming in from all points that the revolution was
toppling, and soon those who were still under arms were pleading to be
allowed to surrender and go to their homes and former occupations.
Orders also came for the _Denver_ to leave Sanchez and proceed on a
surveying trip near the border line dividing San Domingo and Haiti, and
incidentally to watch for some smuggling reported to be carried on
extensively in that vicinity.
The day of departure arrived. In the afternoon a shore boat came
alongside carrying Senor Perez, his wife, children and the governess.
Captain Bentley met the party at the gangway, and after a few words he
gave orders that the crew be assembled aft. When all had gathered there
in the shade of the awnings, Captain Bentley stepped forward and called
for Richard Comstock of the United States Marine Corps to come to the
mast. Then in behalf of the Consul, his family and the governess, the
Captain presented the drummer boy with a beautiful gold wrist watch,
appropriately engraved, which the grateful donors had ordered by cable
from New York City and which the Clyde Liner had but that morning
delivered.
Dick felt that he should make some reply, but for the life of him he was
unable to utter a single word. Suddenly there was a patter of light feet
on the white deck and to his relief Soledad rushed forward. As he bent
to take the child's hand, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed
him squarely on the lips. The look of amazement now on Dick's face was
so great that the entire assembly roared with laughter, and Chief
Master-at-Arms Fitch, regulations to the contrary notwithstanding,
called out:
"Three cheers for our Drummer Boy and the girls he rescued."
They were given with a will, for now there was no longer doubt as to the
loyalty, faithfulness or bravery of Richard Comstock.