The two lads grasped hands as they listened in the intense darkness to
what seemed to be a scene of extreme excitement, the actors in it having
evidently been hurrying to reach the cottage, which they had gained in a
state of exhaustion; for those who spoke gave utterance to their words
as if panting and breathless with their exertions, while from their
whispering it seemed evident that they were afraid of being overheard.
The two listeners dared not stir, for the least movement would have
betrayed them to those below, and before many minutes had elapsed they
felt certain that the present invaders of the cottage were strangers.
All at once some one gave vent to a piteous sigh and an ejaculation or
two as if of pain; and this was followed by what sounded to be words
that were full of pity and compassion, mingled with great deference,
towards the sufferer.
Pen could make out nothing more in the hurried and whispered
conversation than that it was in Spanish, and for the time being he felt
somewhat dazed as to who the new-comers were. He was too much startled
to try and puzzle out matters calmly, and for a while he devoted himself
to the preservation of utter silence.
At last, though, a few more utterances below, spoken in a deferential
tone, followed by a sharp, angry command or two, sent a flash through
his brain, and he pressed Punch's arm with greater energy in an effort
to try and convey to his companion the thought that he knew who the
fresh-comers must be.
"If they would only strike a light," he thought to himself, "I might get
a peep through the knot-hole"--which was always carefully kept clear for
inspection of what took place below--"and I could see then at a glance
whether this was the expected King with his followers."
But the darkness remained profound.
"If it is the escaped Spanish King," he said to himself, "it will be
plain to see. It must be, and they have been pursued by the French, or
they wouldn't be afraid to speak aloud."
Then he began to doubt again, for the Spanish King and his followers,
who needed a guide to lead them through the intricate passes of the
mountains, would not have known their way to the cottage.
"Nonsense!" he thought to himself, as fresh doubts arose. "The old
priest or the captain must have met them and brought them here."
Then all was silent for a time, till it was evident that some one was
moving by the fireplace; and then there was the sound of some one
blowing.
This was followed by a faint glow of light; the blowing sound increased,
and it was evident that the wood-ashes possessed sufficient life to be
fanned into flame, which increased as the embers were evidently being
drawn together by a piece of metal; and before another minute had
elapsed Pen made out through the knot-hole that the instrument used for
reviving the fire was the blade of a sword.
Then some one sighed deeply and uttered a few words in an imperious tone
whose effect was to set some one fanning the fire with more energy, when
the cracks in the boarded floor began to show, and the watcher above
began to get glimpses of those below him.
A few minutes later the embers began to crackle, the members of the
party below grew more visible, and some one uttered a few words in an
eager tone--words which evoked an ejaculation or two of satisfaction,
followed by an eager conversation that sounded like a dispute.
This was followed by an angry, imperious command, and this again by what
sounded to Pen like a word or two of protest. Then the sharp,
commanding voice beat down the respectful objection, one of the flaming
brands seemed to rise from the hearth, and directly after the smoky wick
of the _padre's_ lamp flamed up.
And now Pen had a view of the crowded room which completely dashed his
belief in the party being the Spanish King and his followers, for he was
looking down upon the heads of a gathering of rough-looking, unshorn,
peasant-like men, for the most part in cloaks. Some wore the regular
handkerchief tied round their heads and had their sombrero hats held in
hand or laid by their sides. All, too, were well armed, wearing swords
and rough scarves or belts which contained pistols.
This scene was enough to sweep away all thought of this being a king and
his courtiers, for nothing could have been less suggestive thereof, and
the lad looked in vain for one of them who might have been wounded or so
wearied out that he had been carried in.
Then for a moment Pen let his thoughts run in another direction, but
only for a few moments. These were evidently not any of the smuggler's
men. He had seen too many of them during his sojourn at the priest's
hut not to know what they were like--that is to say, men accustomed to
the mountains; for they were all in their way jaunty of mien. Their
arms, too, were different, and once more the thought began to gain
entrance that his former surmise was right, and that these bearers of
swords who had spoken in such deferential tones to one of their party
were after all faithful followers or courtiers who had assumed disguises
that would enable them to pass over the mountains unnoticed. Which then
was the King?
"If some of them would speak," said Pen to himself, "it would be easier
to tell."
But the silence, save for a faint crack or two from the burning wood,
remained profound.
At last the watcher was beginning to come to a conclusion and settle in
his own mind that one of the party who was bending forward towards the
fire with his cloak drawn about his face might be the King; and his
belief grew stronger as a flickering flame from the tiny fire played
upon this man's high boots, one of which displayed a rusty spur.
The next minute all doubt was at an end, for one of the men nearest the
door uttered a sharp ejaculation which resulted in the occupants of the
_padre's_ dwelling springing to their feet. Swords leapt from their
scabbards, and some of the men drew their cloaks about their left arms,
while others snatched pistols from their belts, and there followed the
sharp clicking of their locks.
It was evident they were on the alert for anticipated danger, and Pen's
eyes glistened, for he could hear no sound. But he noted one thing, and
that was that the booted and spurred individual in the cloak did not
stir from where he was seated upon the priest's stool by the fire.
Then, with a gesture of impatience, Pen saw him throw back his cloak and
put his hand to his belt to draw forth a pistol which refused to come.
Then with an angry word he gave a fierce tug, with the result that the
weapon came out so suddenly that its holder's arm flew up, the pistol
exploded with a loud crash, the bullet with which it was loaded passed
upward through the boarded ceiling, and Pen started and made a snatch at
the spot where his musket was propped up against the wall, while Punch
leaped from where he had crouched and came down again upon the
ill-fitting boards, which cracked loudly as if the boy were going
through.