"What are we to do if they find us, senor?" asked Cabrera.
"Fight," I said, praying fervently there would be no need.
"Good. Knives, Garcia," he returned.
"And till then, silence," I ordered: and not another word was spoken.
The stillness was absolute, and, in the circumstances, awe-inspiring,
and there was not a breath of air to stir even a leaf. It was some
minutes before our eyes grew sufficiently accustomed to the darkness to
discern the moonlight beyond the wood, which gleamed dimly, much like a
phosphorescent light, through the thickly-planted trees. Suddenly the
stillness was broken by a man's voice laughing and oathing, as he called
to a comrade. We all three started and drew together at the sudden
sound, so keen was the nerve tension.
"Had enough of this tomfoolery yet, Juan? Seen anything--where there's
nothing to see?"
"By the corpse of St. Peter, this is a madman's freak, looking for
nothing. I go no further, Jose," was the reply. "Have you been in the
wood?"
"Yes; all the wood I'm going into. We're looking for houses, not men;
and shan't find 'em there. Wait while I roll a cigarette, and, when
I've smoked it, we'll go back and report," and we heard him strike a
match and light it.
"Here, Jose, here's a path into the cursed darkness," called his
comrade, and we heard the twigs snapping underneath his feet as he
blundered about in the undergrowth.
"Let it stop," growled the other man. "It might be the pit of hell,
without the fire to guide us."
"Holy Saints. I've got an idea. Suppose we set light to the cursed
place, and then swear we saw someone in it, and fire our guns and bring
up the others. It would be a mighty blaze, and we might get a step for
our vigilance," and the scoundrel laughed and swore in unholy glee.
"Hold your tongue, idiot," said his companion, roughly. "If you want to
see what's in the wood come with me along the path here;" and to our
consternation we heard him coming towards us.
"Knives, Garcia," whispered Cabrera, and I felt them both loosen the
knives they carried concealed in their girdles. The faint shadow of one
of the men showed between us and the moon gleams, and the sound of
crackling twigs came ominously nearer.
"The blight of hell on the place," cried the same voice suddenly, with a
sound of heavy plunging among the shrubs, and the thud of a falling
body. "What in the devil's name was that?"
His comrade laughed.
"Going to swim through, Jose? What are you doing on your belly like
that?"
"I tripped over some infernal animal, or stump, or something, and struck
my head against a tree, you fool."
"Serves you right for not looking where you are going. Put your eyes in
your boots, you can't see else. Here, wait while I strike a light,
blockhead;" and he lit a match and bent down over his fallen companion.
"Shall we rush on them now?" asked Garcia, trembling with excitement.
"No, no, wait," I said, laying a detaining hand on him.
"Why you're bleeding, Jose, man. Fine figure you'll cut on parade, with
a black eye and a bloody nose. Jose Balso, promoted sergeant for
gallantry in a wood; scouting for nothing and finding it; fought an old
olive tree and fell covered with wounds. Here, come out of this, man;
I'm going back. I've had enough of this foolery;" and without more ado
he went, and we heard his footsteps die away in the distance. His
comrade, growling and swearing and abusing him, stumbled to his feet and
went after him, staggering about in the darkness as he tried to follow
the sound of the other man's calls.
By the lucky chance of his fall we escaped, and I knew peace of mind
once more. The men did not stay by the wood, and after a minute or so
we heard no more of them; and Andreas came back to tell us they had
rejoined the rest of the men, and all had mounted and ridden away on the
road back to Daroca.
I told him of the narrow escape we had had from discovery and then he
surprised us.
"I did it, senor. I was there when they entered the wood, and I got in
his way in the dark and tripped him up when he was getting dangerously
close."
"By heavens, but you are as brave as you are sharp, Andreas," I said,
enthusiastically, giving him my hand. "And now for Calvarro's."
We continued our journey, riding with the greatest caution, and nothing
occurred to interrupt us again. But the unexpected meeting with the
soldiers had rendered me profoundly uneasy, and very doubtful of the
safety of the place. This evidence that they were patrolling and
scouting in the immediate vicinity of Calvarro's farm was very
disquieting; and even the indifferent way in which the soldiers were
doing the work did not reassure me.
I read in it more than mere chance work; for it looked much more likely
that they were acting upon information that some good hiding-places for
the Carlists were in the neighbourhood. The remark of one of the
pair--"We're looking for houses, not men"--had ominous significance in
this respect. They were not merely patrolling the roads in search of me
and my two companions in response to messages sent by Rubio from
Calatayud, for in that case they would merely have watched the roads and
by-paths. They appeared to be one of a thoroughly organised system of
search parties sent out to scour the whole country side, to find all the
possible hiding-places and farms in the district where any Carlist
refugees could possibly be hidden. And if this were so, it seemed to me
so improbable as to be virtually impossible for Sarita's hiding-place to
remain long undiscovered.
And this brought me once more face to face with a host of disturbing
perplexities as to her and my future action. To remain at a place which
the soldiers were likely to find was to plunge her into the almost
certain danger of arrest; while to leave it in the attempt to steal into
Daroca would, if the attempt were successful, bring me into still more
imminent peril at the hands of the Carlists who would, unless a miracle
chanced, discover my fraud. The dilemma baffled me.
I called Andreas to my side and explained to him fully my doubts in
regard to the soldiers' movements, and I found then that to some extent
he shared them, as did also Cabrera. But the latter had a plan of his
own ready, founded on what I had said previously.
"If we are not to run like rabbits all over the country side and be
caught or shot in couples, we must rally and make a stand somewhere,
senor. Why not at Calvarro's? The house could be held for a long time,
if we can only get a handful of men to it. I own I don't like these
soldiers everywhere. It looks to me as if the blow had fallen at
Daroca, and we were too late to do anything there. But we are men, I
hope, and can fight and die, if need be, like men. For my part I'd
rather find a lodging for a bullet in my body than have my whole body
lodged in a gaol to rot there until the cursed Government chose to turn
merciful and let me out. To hell with their mercy, say I. Give me the
word and let me take my chance of getting into Daroca with a message
from you to bring help to Calvarro's, and I'll do it and be back before
the soldiers can find the place, or finding it, can smoke you out of
it."
"Your life would----"
"I'll chance my life," he burst in, impatiently. "I beg your pardon,
senor; but there are, or were, plenty in Daroca who are of my mind, and
would a thousand times rather fight than go on manifestoeing and
scheming and fooling the time and the opportunity away. For the Holy
Virgin's sake let some of us do something like men. One good rally, and
who knows but the fire will be kindled that will rage all over Spain?
It will be the beacon which thousands of eyes are asking to see and
thousands of hearts will welcome."
"I'm with Cabrera, senor," said Garcia. "Let us go to the town and
bring out our friends. If we fail, well, we fail--but we shall at least
have tried, while now----" and he shrugged his shoulders and ended with
a sneer: "We might be children or Government men."
Had I been one of them in reality, the plan was just what I would have
welcomed; but as it was, I could not counsel it and give my voice for
fighting.
"No, not yet. We must wait and hear first, if we can, from Juan how
things have gone in Daroca."
"Aye, aye, wait, wait, always wait, till the soldiers have time to get
their firing platoons in position, and we can be shot like worn-out
mules instead of fighting like men," growled Cabrera, gloomily; and he
and Garcia turned to grumble in sympathy, while I rode on.
When we were quite close to Calvarro's--a place that lay indeed most
marvellously concealed--and were approaching the farm by a path
cunningly masked through a dense olive wood, a lad sprang out of the
undergrowth and called to Andreas.
"Juan is here, senor," he said; and the boy, some two years younger than
his brother and much resembling him, came to me. "Tell the senor the
news in Daroca, Juan."
"It is of the worst, senor. Soon after midday the soldiers began to
pour into the town from Saragossa, and special train after special train
came loaded with them. They are everywhere; every house in the town has
been searched; and they tell me hundreds of prisoners have been hurried
away by train to Saragossa. Every road into the town is alive with
soldiers, and search parties are spreading out everywhere in all
directions. The house of every suspected person is in the hands of the
soldiers or the police; and everywhere I heard stories of arms, papers,
and property which have been seized."
"We are too late," exclaimed Cabrera. "The only chance will be to rally
here, senor. It must be."
"Where is the senorita?" I asked the lad, unable to restrain my anxiety
any longer; and I felt that the eagerness in my voice was very patent.
When he told me, to my infinite relief, that she was in the house, a
fervent "God be thanked for that!" burst from me, and turning I found
Cabrera's eyes fixed upon me searchingly.
"So that's it," he growled, half under his breath, and he and Garcia
whispered for a moment together. "Your pardon, senor," he said aloud to
me, and waved the boys out of hearing. "Stand back a bit, lads. The
senorita is much to us all, senor, but the cause is more than any one of
us--more than even her safety. Our master first, ourselves after, is
the rule; and in this crisis, the cause before all else. We must make
the rally here, or all will be lost--so Garcia and I are agreed--and
that cannot be."
"Do you think there's a chance of holding a place like this against
half-a-dozen regiments? Are you mad? Why the place would be tumbling
about our ears in half-an-hour, and every soul inside would be either
captured or killed."
"And how could we die better? Your pardon if I speak bluntly and my
words offend you, but anyone whose motive is what yours is may be
forgiven if his judgment goes astray. A man with his heart in a woman's
heart makes an ill counsellor. You are right in your way to think first
of the safety of the woman you love; but this is no woman's matter. The
thought of the senorita in peril of her life robs you of the power to
think freely--we are all like that at such a time; but I for one can't
let it influence me now. I'm going to the town, and Garcia with me;
and, with the Virgin's help, we'll rally enough to make a stand here.
And if you're afraid for her, get her away before we return."
I liked him for his blunt outspokenness, and felt like a traitor as I
gripped his hand and wrung it.
"You have heard Juan's news, and you go on a hopeless quest, friend. I
cannot leave the senorita."
"Get her away before we're back--if you can, that is; for, like you, I'd
sooner she was out of such a scene as, please the Saints, shall make the
name of Calvarro's farm ring through Spain; aye, and that before morning
breaks, maybe."
"I fear the soldiers will be here before you can return," I said, eager
to get them both gone, and yet loth to lose their help in case of need.
In fact I was so distracted by my double set of anxieties I scarcely
knew what to say or do.
"That must be your risk and hers, senor. Save her if you can; but if
you can't, then God's will be done."
"I would rather you stayed in case of need," I said then, weakly.
"So that we three and the senorita be caught like rats in a trap;" and
he smiled at my weakness. "No, no, if the soldiers get here before we
are strong enough in numbers to hold the place, the fewer they find the
better. Good-bye, senor, and the Saints protect you both. Here,
Andreas," he called, and gave him his instructions, that one of the lads
should lead him and Garcia the nearest and safest way to the town, and
the other remain in readiness to give warning on his return if the
soldiers came there; and having given me a final pressure of the hand he
and Garcia rode off on their desperate business and were soon out of
sight.
I gazed after them in a mood of almost desperate indecision; even then
half-minded to call them back, risk everything, and bid them wait while
I called out Sarita and joined them on the journey to the town. But the
mood and the moment passed. I let them go. Their horses' footfalls died
away in the distance; and swinging myself from the saddle, I followed
Juan to the door of the house, on which he knocked, three times a soft
double knock.
An old woman opened it, holding a candle over her head, and peering
curiously and cautiously at me.
"Is all well, Juan?" she asked in a deep voice.
"All is well, Mother Calvarro," answered the boy.
"The senor is welcome," and she made way for me to enter.
"Shall I stop outside, senor?" asked the boy.
"And use your eyes like a lynx, my lad, and warn us instantly of
anything you notice."
The old crone closed the door carefully after him, and then holding the
candle near my face, she said:
"Counting all renegades, senor?"
"Lovers of Satan. By the Grace of God, Mother Calvarro," and I doffed
my hat.
"By the Grace of God," she repeated, fervently. "And your name, senor?"
"Is my own, Mother. I would see the senorita at once," I said, putting
a note of authority into my voice.
"She is broken by the ill-news that Juan brought. Truly a day of woe.
The Holy Virgin save us and protect us all," and she raised her
disengaged hand, sighed heavily, turned and shuffled slowly along the
narrow bare-walled passage, pausing at a door. "Shall I tell her of
your coming?"
"Better not," I replied, and as she opened the door, I entered, my heart
beating quickly.
It was a low farmhouse room, very barely furnished; wooden chairs and a
bare wooden table on which stood a candle that flickered feebly in the
gust of air caused by the opening door.
Near the window and against the wall was a long wooden bench with arms,
and on this, her head bowed on her hands which rested on one of the hard
wooden arms, was Sarita, crouching in an attitude of deep despondency.
She did not lift her head at my entrance, thinking no doubt it was the
woman of the house.
*CHAPTER XXVI*
*THE PLEA OF LOVE*
The sight of Sarita crushed down in this way by the load of her hopeless
trouble was the most sorrowful my eyes had ever beheld. Knowing as I
did her great strength, her buoyant confidence, her intense pride, her
indomitable courage, I could gauge the force of the blow that had cast
her down, and the depth of the bitterness of this hour of suffering.
For a while I gazed at her, almost ashamed that I had thus broken in
upon her. Then a world of intense sympathy welled up from my heart, an
infinite remorse even that in a measure I had helped to strike her down
by my rescue of the young King, and an overpowering desire to take some
of the burden upon myself; and my love for her came to my rescue and
prompted me how to act.