At night Raoul and I, disguised in the leathern dresses of two
rancheros, stole round the lines, and reached Punta Hornos, a point
beyond our own pickets. Here we "took the water", wading waist-deep.
This was about ten o'clock. The tide was just setting out, and the
night, by good fortune, was as dark as pitch.
As the swell rolled in we were buried to the neck, and when it rolled
back again we bent forward; so that at no time could much of our bodies
be seen above the surface.
In this manner, half wading, half swimming, we kept up to the town.
It was a toilsome journey, but the water was warm, and the sand on the
bottom firm and level. We were strengthened--I at least--by hope and
the knowledge of danger. Doubtless my companion felt the latter
stimulant as much as I.
We soon reached the battlements of Santiago, where we proceeded with
increased caution. We could see the sentry up against the sky, pacing
along the parapet. His shrill cry startled us. We thought we had been
discovered. The darkness alone prevented this.
At length we passed him, and came opposite the city, whose battlements
rested upon the water's edge.
The tide was at ebb, and a bed of black, weed-covered rocks lay between
the sea and the bastion.
We approached these with caution, and, crawling over the slippery
boulders, after a hundred yards or so found ourselves in the entrance of
one of the conductors.
Here we halted to rest ourselves, sitting down upon a ledge of rock. We
were in no more danger here than in our own tents, yet within twenty
feet were men who, had they known our proximity, would have strung us up
like a pair of dogs.
But our danger was far from lying at this end of the adventure.
After a rest of half an hour we kept up into the conductor. My
companion seemed perfectly at home in this subterranean passage, walking
along as boldly as if it had been brilliantly lighted with gas.
After proceeding some distance we approached a grating, where a light
shot in from above.
"Can we pass out here?" I inquired.
"Not yet, Captain," answered Raoul in a whisper. "Farther on."
We passed the grating, then another and another, and at length reached
one where only a feeble ray struggled downward through the bars.
Here my guide stopped, and listened attentively for several minutes.
Then, stretching out his hand, he undid the fastening of the grate, and
silently turned it upon its hinge. He next swung himself up until his
head projected above ground. In this position he again listened,
looking cautiously on all sides.
Satisfied at length that there was no one near, he drew his body up
through the grating and disappeared. After a short interval he
returned, and called down:
"Come, Captain."