IN THE CELL
James did not stop to gloat over the momentary holdup of his enemy, but
followed by his comrade, he sped around the turn of the hall, then up to
the second story to the narrow winding stairway, winding between stone
walls, towards the cell where the señorita was under guard of the tall,
red-headed Amazon.
As he reached the landing a bitter surprise awaited him. The door of the
room was wide open. Not a soul was there. The bird had flown. Instantly
Jim turned and started to descend the stone stairs. What his intentions
were it would be difficult to say. It would have been a long and hard
task to have found out in which room, out of the many, the senorita was
now held prisoner, even if he had had leisure to look, but under the
circumstances with enemies on all sides it was impossible.
Already the captain and his men were near the foot of the winding stair,
and from the other direction came some of the panic-stricken Mexicans,
who had heard the voice of Captain Broome ringing through the house.
It doubtless gave them renewed courage to find that he was on deck;
besides, they would have been afraid to have him discover them lurking
in fear about the premises, and then, too, they had motives of their own
for joining in the chase now that reënforcements had arrived.
"Back up, Jim," cried John Berwick; "the dogs have got us cornered."
"Hold 'em off," exclaimed Jim; "take one shot; save the rest."
He leaped back to see what way of escape there might be without
retreating into the _cul de sac_ of the cell. He caught a projection in
the stone above the landing in an effort to reach the glass skylight. At
that moment there came a quick shot below him, and the report roared and
reëchoed in the winding stairway. There was a yelp like that of a
wounded animal, and one of the Mexicans fell backward down the stairs,
not mortally wounded, as he thought he was.
For a moment the mob was held back, and then Captain Broome himself took
the lead; he contributed the force and fury of the charge, and the
Mexicans the loud yells and exclamations of burning wrath.
"This is the only way out, Jim," cried Berwick, making for the empty
cell. "No time to waste climbing up stone walls."
Jim saw the force of this; he leaped down to the landing, and as the
leaders of the charge came surging around the curve in the stone
stairway, he and Berwick rushed into the cell, slammed and barred the
door, as the enemy came against it with a dull thud.
There was no chance to make a barricade, as there was scarcely any
furniture in the cell. Nothing would have pleased Jim better than that
means of defense. There were just two things to do, either surrender or
to try the window.
Jim would never think of the first; death was better than that. It was
only a question of a few minutes before the door would be down and their
capture or death certain. Nothing needed to be said. Jim put out the dim
lamp as Berwick reached the leaded casement window.
In a moment they were out on a narrow balcony of iron, but green with
ivy and a rambler rose, that hung and nodded near the casement. The dim
light of morning was seeping through the heavy folds of fog, and
spreading in steel-like patches over the dark-hued Pacific.
Even in this moment of danger they were glad to breathe in the fresh
air. If only the fog was thicker it might be of help to them; if they
had only looked landward their hearts would have been lighter, for there
in huge rolls of gray the fog was moving, thick, impenetrable, over the
ground, and in a short time, probably not over a minute, the castle and
the whole coast would be enveloped.
But the two had to do something immediately, and could not stand there
admiring the scenery. Above them rose the high peak over the window, and
higher yet the hip of the roof. A glance was sufficient to show Jim that
they did not want to get up any higher in the world than they were.
Below them was the ridge of another roof, about a distance of a dozen
feet; a dizzy drop, but they had to do it; there was no other way.
"I'll go first," determined Jim, "and then you follow."
At that instant, a red glow shone through the thick round glass of the
casement, and the door fell with a crash. Jim climbed out, and holding
to the lower edge of the balcony, without the slightest hesitation,
dropped. His feet struck on the slant, and his hands gripped the ridge
and he pulled himself up. The engineer was already dangling in the air,
holding on to the edge.
"Now," cried Jim.
A moment after the casement had burst out, the engineer let go, Jim
steadied him as he struck, and exerting all his strength barely kept the
two of them from sliding down and out. The fog was already upon them
with its thick enveloping whiteness, and they could not see more than
two feet in either direction. It was indeed a case where fortune
appeared to favor the brave.
"They're down there all right," cried the captain in his harsh voice;
"we've got 'em where they can't get away. Don't shoot, lads, we'll take
'em alive."
A roar of approval met this declaration.
"Give me a lasso, Manuel, and hurry, or I'll take the end of it to you,"
roared the captain.
Jim put his hand on his comrade's shoulder and whispered:
"I want that lasso," and he edged along until he was directly underneath
the balcony, then he rose slowly to his feet, which, in his wet
stockings, did not slip. Manuel, indeed, had hurried, for no sooner had
Jim risen to the height of his precarious position than he saw the rope
dangling downward like a snake. He let it alone until he believed that
it was paid out to the full.
Then he gripped it with both of his powerful hands, and gave it a yank,
as though he were ringing out the old year. It pulled the sailor who was
paying the rope out bodily out of the balcony, and only the agility and
strength of the captain kept him from falling into the hands or upon the
head of the enemy below, but in the struggle he let go of the rope.
Jim, with his treasure firmly in hand, now moved rapidly along the ridge
of the roof to a chimney, paying no attention to the uproar on the
balcony above, nor to the shots that, with a dimmed report, tore
harmlessly through the gray garment of the fog. It did not take them
long to tie the rope around the chimney and then Berwick slid down past
several windows and with a drop of ten feet was on the ground once more.
In a moment Jim was standing by him. His first act was to seek out and
put on his shoes.
"Over the fence now, Captain?"
"No," replied Jim, "we won't give up the fight till we're beaten."
"Better get, while we have the chance," protested the engineer
earnestly.
"Come quick; I have a scheme," announced Jim. "We won't run yet."
"No faster than molasses in January," said the engineer irritably.
"Take it easy, John," said Jim soothingly, with a pat on the shoulder;
"we'll come out all right, my boy."
It was as though Jim were the older of the two, but it was the quality
of leadership in him that made him hearten his comrade. Berwick
responded, his good nature instantly restored.
"Go it, Cap. I'll see you through this if it takes my head and both
feet."
"Thank you, John," replied Jim, gripping the other's hand. "It won't be
as bad as that, I hope."
Then they started directly for the fence, to the complete surprise of
the engineer, for Jim had declared against that route most emphatically;
but Berwick made no protest, for, as James had said that he had a
scheme, he knew it would soon develop. He noticed that his leader made
no effort to disguise his footprints as they ran, and so it was not a
shock to him, when they reached the fence, to see that Jim made no
attempt to scale it. He stopped a moment to listen for any sign of
pursuit.