IT was late at night when Appleby, who felt no inclination for sleep,
looked out into the soft darkness from a window of the cuartel where he
had now passed six anxious days Here and there a light blinked dimly in
the gulf of blacker shadow that marked the narrow street beneath him,
for there was no moon that night, and the steamy dampness the faint warm
wind drove before it obscured the stars. A hot, musky smell rose from
the silent town.
Still, Appleby, who had keen eyes, fancied he had seen a shadowy form
pass twice beneath the nearest light, and then turn as though looking up
at the cuartel, and he called Harper softly when it appeared again.
"Can you make out that man?" he said. "This is the third time I have
seen him. It is noticeable that he shows himself just under the lamp."
"Well," said Harper reflectively, "I guess you wouldn't have seen him
anywhere else."
The shadowy form slipped away into the obscurity, and there was silence
for at least five minutes while the pair stood very still, wondering
with a vague sense of expectation what it meant, until Appleby said
sharply, "There he is again."
"No," said Harper. "That's another one. He's taller, and, so far as I
can make out, dressed quite different. Still, he's looking up. It seems
to me he means us or somebody else to see him."
Appleby felt his heart throb, and his voice was not quite steady as he
said, "Morales has, at least, a half-company in the cuartel."
"Well," said Harper, "I don't quite know. He sent most of the Barremedas
away--though there's a section or two here still. They are the men that
showed signs of kicking in the plaza, and it's quite likely he figures
they'd be safer with Vincente's Peninsular battalion. Then counting up
the pickets, outposts, and patrols he'll have on the carretera, there'll
scarcely be forty men in this barracks now."
Appleby nodded. "Perhaps you are right," he said. "I have been wondering
why nothing has apparently happened to the section which ordered arms.
Morales is not the man to let a thing of that kind pass."
Harper was quite aware that his comrade had little interest in the
question, and surmised that he desired to conceal the fact that the
appearance of the man below had stirred him to a state of tense
expectancy.
"No," he said. "Still, I guess he has quite a good reason for holding
his hand, and those cazadores will be sorry for themselves when he's
through with them. He'll keep them wondering where he's going to hit
them until it grinds all the grit out of them, and then start in."
He stopped somewhat abruptly at the sound of feet on the stairway, and
had his hand on the lattice when a soldier came in. It was evident that
he noticed the half-closed window, and he looked at them curiously.
"The Colonel Morales sends for you," he said, and though there was
apparently nobody within hearing dropped his voice a little. "If he asks
you questions let him wait for your answer. It is necessary that you
should keep him talking at least ten minutes."
Appleby felt a little quiver run through him, and saw that Harper's face
had grown suddenly intent.
"Why?" he asked.
The man made a little gesture expressive of indecision. "The guard is
changed then--and who knows what may happen? The men who come on duty are
my comrades of the Barremedas--and they are afraid. This Morales is most
terrible in his quietness. There is also below a merchant of tobacco."
Appleby saw the sudden sparkle in Harper's eyes, but he put a strong
constraint upon himself, for he dared not hope too much. He knew
Maccario's daring, but it was difficult to believe that he would venture
into the cuartel where there were men who could scarcely fail to
recognize him. Still, he remembered the signs of disaffection among the
troops, and that Cuba was steeped in intrigue.
"We are ready," he said very quietly.
The soldier signed to them, and they followed him--down the outer
stairway, and up another, along a corridor where two guards were
stationed, and into a room where their guide, who raised his hand and
swung round, left them. The room was small, with one lattice in it that
apparently opened on to the street and not the patio, and Morales sat
alone, with his sword and kepi on the table before him, which was
littered with papers. He looked up with expressionless eyes, and then
while they stood quivering a little with suspense went on writing for
the space of four minutes by the clock behind him. Appleby, who
understood his purpose, felt that this would count for a good deal if
ever there was a reckoning between them, but seeing the flush of passion
in Harper's lean face he once more put a grim constraint upon himself.
Knowing the Castilian temperament he also fancied that at this game he
could hold his own with Morales. At last the soldier shook a little sand
over what he had written, and carefully cleaned his pen before he turned
to them.
"It seemed to me you might have concluded that the decision you made was
a trifle hasty, Senor Appleby," he said.
"You gave me no opportunity of changing it," said Appleby as quietly as
he could, though he realized that his voice was not quite his usual one.
"In any case I do not see what I gain. We are under sentence, and one
has usually a motive for what he does in Cuba."
Morales glanced at him steadily with keen dark eyes, and Appleby
wondered whether he had assumed too great an eagerness by suggesting
that he might be willing to treat with a man who had hitherto found him
obdurate. Then the officer smiled.
"It is evident that the man who passed the sentence could commute it,"
he said.
Appleby appeared to reflect. He did not know what was going on below,
but he desired at least to hold Morales' attention until the change of
the guard.
"Of course!" he said. "Still, he had apparently no intention of doing
so. It seems to me we are under no obligation to Colonel Morales in one
respect."
"No?" and Morales' smile was sardonic.
Appleby shook his head. "I fancy that we owe rather more to certain
disaffected cazadores," he said. "That little display was, of course,
unexpected."
He saw the dark eyes flash, but next moment the officer's face was once
more expressionless.
"One cannot foresee everything, but I think there will not be another
display of the kind," he said. "Well, I will make an admission. Would it
astonish you to hear that, in spite of the sentence, it was not intended
that you should face the firing party?"
Appleby, who heard a soft crunching under his comrade's foot, glanced at
him warningly. Harper's eyes were glowing, and the fingers of one hand
were tightly clenched, but meeting Appleby's gaze he controlled himself.
"One would not presume to question the word of Colonel Morales," said
Appleby with rather more than a trace of irony. "In this case there was
also the fact that your distinguished countrymen have already incurred a
serious responsibility. Spain cannot afford to offer any unnecessary
provocation to two other nations just now."
The contempt in Morales' little laugh was not assumed. "Pshaw! It is
evident you do not understand the Castilians, Senor Appleby. One would
almost fancy that you were trifling with me."
"I am afraid you rate my courage too high," said Appleby, who glanced at
the clock. "It is, however, difficult to decide. The thing suggested was
unpleasant, and you understand that one has prejudices. Perhaps that is
because I have not lived very long in Cuba. Still, I admit that what we
saw in the plaza was suggestive, but there is the difficulty that I
cannot commit my comrade, who may have different notions."
Once more Morales fixed his dark eyes upon him, and Appleby, who could
feel his heart throbbing, wondered if he had blundered in not assuming
at least a trace of anxiety. He fancied that Morales must suspect that
there was something behind his indifferent attitude, but, tingling with
suspense as he was, the role was very difficult to play. It was
essential that he should lead the officer on with the hope of making
terms until the guard was changed. The minute finger of the little clock
scarcely seemed to move, while he could feel that the damp was beaded on
his forehead.
Morales, however, laughed. "I fancy he could be left you. Still, I
wished him to hear--that he should know whom he was indebted to in case
we did not arrive at an understanding. Well, I will be frank. We will
assume that the offer I made you is open still."
Appleby stood silent for almost half a minute, which appeared
interminable, feeling that Morales' eyes never left his face. Then there
was a tramp of feet in the patio, followed by a tread on the stairway,
and it was only by strenuous effort that he retained his immobility. The
guard was being changed a minute or two earlier than he had expected.
A voice rose from outside, somebody tapped at the door and Morales
appeared to check an exclamation of impatience when a man came in. He
was dressed immaculately in white linen and spotless duck, and carried a
costly Panama hat in his hand.
"With many excuses, senor, I venture to do myself this honor," he said.
"You may remember you were once pleased to express your approbation of
my poor tobacco."
Appleby contrived to smile, though it cost him an effort, but Harper
gasped, and there was for a moment a silence they both found it
difficult to bear. Appleby in the meanwhile saw the gleam in Morales'
eyes, but was quite aware that a Castilian gentleman rates his own
dignity too highly to consider it necessary to impress it upon every
stranger.
"It is an intrusion," he said quietly. "I do not understand why the
sentries admitted you."
The tobacco merchant made a little deprecatory gesture, and Appleby felt
his hands tremble as he watched the man move a step nearer the officer's
chair.
"It was not their fault. I slipped by when the guard was changed," he
said. "One would make excuses for such boldness, but you understand the
necessities of business. Now, I have here examples of a most excellent
tobacco."
Morales turned, apparently to summon one of the guards. "Still, the man
who let you pass will be sorry!"
Then there was a little click-clack that sounded horribly distinct, and
as he swung round again a pistol glinted in the tobacco merchant's hand.
"Senor," said the latter, "it would be advisable to sit very still."
Morales became suddenly rigid, but his eyes were very steady as he
glanced at the stranger. "One begins to understand," he said. "Are you
not, however, a little indiscreet, senor? There is a guard scarcely
thirty feet away. A sound also travels far in this building."
The tobacco merchant laughed. "Will you open the door, Senor Harper,
that Colonel Morales may see his guard?"
Harper rose, and when he flung the door open the sentry was revealed. He
stood in the corridor gazing into the lighted room, but though the
situation must have been evident to him, his face was expressionless,
and his erect figure showed motionless against the shadow behind him.
Then for just a moment a flush of darker color swept into Morales' olive
cheek, and Appleby fancied that he winced.
"That man is taking a heavy risk," he said. "There is a half-company of
his comrades in the cuartel."
The tobacco merchant smiled. "Then one would fancy, senor, that some of
them had mutinied."
Morales said nothing for a moment, and Appleby surmised that he was
wondering how many of his men had remained loyal. Then he made a little
impatient gesture.
"Well," he said, "what do you want from me?"
"A very little thing, senor. No more than the liberty of a certain peon,
Domingo Pereira. I do not ask the freedom of these friends of mine.
That, as you can comprehend, is unnecessary."
A little gleam crept into the officer's dark eyes. "It is a trifle
difficult to understand why you place yourself under an obligation to me
in respect to the peon Pereira. If there is a mutiny in the cuartel, why
not take him?"
"It is simple. The affair is one that we wish to arrange quietly, but
there are one or two sections who will take no part with us, and the
Sergeant Suarez is an obdurate loyalist. All we ask is an order for the
handing over of the prisoner to the guard. That, since it will not be
known when they mutinied, will cast no discredit upon the Colonel
Morales."
"And if I should not think fit to sign it?"
The tobacco merchant shrugged his shoulders. "One would recommend you to
reflect," he said. "Between two Spanish gentlemen who have no wish for
unpleasantness that should be sufficient. Still, you see before you
three determined men and you have proof that your guard has mutinied. It
is convenient that you write the order."
"You want nothing more?"
"No, senor. To be frank, my friends have no intention of seizing the
cuartel. We are not in a position to hold it just now."
Morales tore a strip of paper from a pad, scribbled upon it and flung it
across the table to the tobacco merchant, who passed it to Appleby.
"You will hand that to the soldier outside," he said. "He will come back
and report when he has delivered the prisoner to the guard."
Appleby went out, and the tobacco merchant laid the pistol down. "It was
an unpleasant necessity," he said. "Still, one can dispense with it now
we have arrived at an understanding."
Harper laughed as he clenched his big hands on the back of the chair he
leaned upon.
"If the distinguished gentleman tries to get up something will happen to
him," he said. "I have been figuring just where I could get him with the
leg of this."
Morales made a little gesture of disgust. "The Senor Harper does not
understand us. One has objections to anything unseemly, senor. I have a
fancy that I have seen you in other places than the hacienda San
Cristoval."
"In Alturas Pass--and elsewhere," said the tobacco merchant with a smile.
"I once had the honor of meeting the Colonel Morales in the street below
us. At that time he had a sword in his hand."
Morales' face grew very grim, but he held himself in hand. "Yes. I
remember now," he said. "The leader of the Sin Verguenza--Don Maccario?"
The tobacco merchant made him a little half-ironical inclination.
"Colonel Morales will appreciate the consideration I have shown him in
coming myself," he said. "The affair might have been arranged
differently had I sent one or two of my men who have a little account
with him."
Morales said nothing, and there was silence for a space of minutes. What
he thought was not apparent, for though his color was a trifle darker
now, he sat rigidly still, but Appleby felt himself quivering a little,
and saw that Harper's lips were grimly set, while Maccario moved the
fingers of one hand in a curious nervous fashion. Appleby scarcely dared
wonder what was happening in the patio, though he surmised that if the
Sergeant Suarez questioned the order it would go very hard with all of
them, for there were, he remembered, fifty men in the cuartel, and only
a handful of them had mutinied. He could feel his heart beating, and
anathematized the loquaciousness of Maccario and his deference to
Castilian decorum which had kept them so long. It was evident to him
that any trifling unexpected difficulty would result in their
destruction. At last, when every nerve in him was tingling, a man came
hastily up the stairway.
"We have Domingo Pereira," he said. "The others are getting impatient,
senor!"
Maccario rose and turned to Morales. "Take warning, senor. No one is
safe from the Sin Verguenza, and we may not extend you as much
consideration when we next meet," he said. "In the meanwhile I ask your
word on the faith of a soldier of Spain that you will sit here silent
for the next ten minutes."
Again Morales' eyes gleamed. "Now," he said ironically, "comes your
difficulty. I will promise nothing--and a pistol is noisy. I am not sure
about the extent of the mutiny."
Maccario very suggestively shook his sleeve. "In this country one
carries a little implement which is silent and effective, but there is
another means of obviating the difficulty. This sash of mine is of ample
length and spun from the finest silk, though one would not care to
subject a distinguished officer to an indignity."
"Take it off," said Harper. "I'll fix him so half his cazadores couldn't
untie him. You're not going to take his word he'll sit there."
Maccario stopped him with a gesture, and turned to Morales. "It would,
it seems, be wiser to promise, senor. We ask no more than ten minutes."
For a moment the officer's olive face became suffused, but the blood
ebbed from it, leaving it almost pale, and it was very quietly he
pledged himself. Then they turned and left him, and Harper gasped when
they went out into the corridor.
"Well," he said shortly, "I don't want to go through an thing like that
again. It was 'most as hard as what happened in the plaza, and it seems
to me the sooner we light out of this place the better."
In another minute they reached the great patio, where a handful of men
in uniform were eagerly waiting them. They formed about the released
prisoners, and one of them ironically saluted the loyalist sentry who
sat in his box with a cloth bound about his head as they passed out into
the silent street. The hot walls flung back the tramp of their feet with
a horrible distinctness, but the citizen of Santa Marta had grown
accustomed to the passing of the rounds, and when Maccario, stopping
beneath a light, pulled out his watch they were close to the outside of
the town.
"Haste would be advisable, I think," he said.
Then they broke into a run, but Maccario swung round as they sped down a
street and flung himself into a shadowy patio. They swept through it
into an open door, and out through one at the back of the building,
while Appleby gasped with relief as he found himself in a garden with
the town at last behind him.
Maccario laughed a little as he touched his shoulder. "There is a path
here," he said. "The Sin Verguenza have friends everywhere."
They were quickly clear of the garden, and as they blundered through a
grove of trees shadowy objects clustered about them, while when Maccario
stopped again there appeared to be a swarm of them. A growing clamor,
through which the ringing of the bugles came stridently, rose from the
town.
"We will stop and adopt a convenient formation," he said. "You will, I
think, find a few of your friends here, Don Bernardino. It is scarcely
likely that Morales will risk a pursuit in the darkness."
"If anybody had told me he would have sat there because he promised I
guess I wouldn't have believed him," said Harper.
Maccario laughed. "There is apparently still a little you do not
understand," he said. "That is a great rascal, but he is also a brave
soldier and a Castilian gentleman. Had he not known his own value to
Spain it is conceivable that--"
He stopped with a little expressive gesture, and Harper felt something
very like a shiver run through him. He, however, said nothing further,
but took his place among the rest, for already Appleby was forming the
men. Then marching silently they swung through the tobacco fields until
they came out upon the carretera that led to San Cristoval.