HOW TO BECOME A SOLDIER
The change in the aspect of affairs would have made a greater difference
to most companies of adventurers than it did to that of which Master
Rollo Blair of Blair Castle in the shire of Fife was the leader. In the
morning they had all risen with the expectation of being shot with the
sun-rising. At ten of the clock they were speeding southward on good
horses, holding acknowledged rank and position in the army of the only
Catholic and religious sovereign.
But they were a philosophic quartette. Rollo drew in the morning air and
blew it back again through his nostrils without thinking much of how
nearly he had come to kissing the brown earth of Luis Fernandez's garden
with a dozen bullets through his heart. Mortimer meditated somewhat
sulkily upon his lost onions, rustling pleasantly back there in the cool
_patio_ of the nunnery. Etienne sorrowed for his latest love idyll
ruthlessly cut short, and as to El Sarria, he thought of nothing save
that Dolores had come back to him and that he had yet to reckon with the
Fernandez family. The next time he would attend to the whole matter
himself, and there would be no mistakes.
It was not without sadness that Rollo looked his last on the white
walls of the convent of the Holy Innocents. He was glad indeed to have
placed Dolores in safety--glad that she and her child were together, and
that the good sisters were responsible for them. Between them the four
had made up a purse to be sent by Concha to the Mother Superior, to be
applied for the behoof of her guests till the better days should come,
and Ramon Garcia be able to claim his wife and first-born son.
But Concha had refused point-blank.
"The babe came through the wicket. The mother arrived by night, a
fugitive asking pity, like the Virgin fleeing down to Egypt in the
pictures," said Concha. "The convent needs no alms, nor does the Lady
Superior sell her help. Keep the money, lads. If I am not a fool you
will need it more than the sisterhood of the Holy Innocents before you
come to your journey's end."
And with that she blew them each a dainty kiss, distinguishing no one
above the other, dropped a curtsey to the general, whose eyes followed
her with more than usual interest, leaped on her white mare and rode
off, attended by La Giralda riding astride like a man, in the same
fashion in which she had arrived.
So little Concha was gone from his sight, and duty loomed up suddenly
gaunt and void of interest before Rollo. To risk his life was nothing.
When he got nearer to the goal, his blood would rise, that he knew. To
capture a queen and a regent at one coup, to upset a government, to
bring a desolating war to an end--these were all in the day's work. But
why, in the name of all that was sanest and most practical, did his
heart feel like lead within him and his new dignity turn to Dead Sea
ashes in his mouth?
It was not long before Cabrera dropped back, that he might talk over
ways and means with the young colonel. It was clear that the _guerrilla_
chieftain did not believe greatly in the project.
"I do not understand all this," he said; "it is not my way. What have we
to do with taking women and children prisoners? Let us have no truck,
barter, or exchange with the government at Madrid except at the point of
the bayonet. That is my way of it, and if my advice had been taken
before, my master would at this moment have been in the royal palace of
his ancestors. But these secret embassies in the hands of
foreigners--what good can come of them?"
Rollo explained such things as the Abbot of Montblanch had made clear to
him--namely, that the Regent and her daughter were by no means averse to
Holy Church, nor yet eager to keep the true King out of his own. But,
they were in the power of unscrupulous men--Mendizabal, Linares, and
others, who for their own ends published edicts and compelled the ladies
to sign them. If they were captured and sequestered for their own good,
the ministry would break down and Don Carlos would reign undisturbed.
Rollo thought the exposition a marvel of clearness and point. It was
somewhat disappointing, therefore, when he had finished to hear from
Cabrera the unmoved declaration: "A Cristino is a Cristino whether in
the palace of Madrid or on the mountains of Morella. And the quickest
way is the best way with such an one, wherever met with!"
"But you do not mean to say that you would shoot the girl-Queen or the
mother-Regent if they fell into your hands?" cried Rollo, aghast at the
horror.
The deep underlying anger leaped up fiery red into the eyes of the
_guerrilla_ chief.
"Aye, that would I," he cried, "as quickly as they slew my own old
mother in the barrack yard of Tortosa!"
And thinking of that tragedy and the guilt of Nogueras, Rollo felt there
was something to be said for the indomitable, implacable little
butcher-general of Don Carlos.
Cabrera was silent for a while after making this speech, and then
abruptly demanded of Rollo how many men he would require for his
undertaking.
"I am bidden to place my entire command at your service," he said with
obvious reluctance, glancing out of his little oblique eyes at the young
colonel.
Rollo considered a while before answering.
"It is my opinion that the fewer men concerned in such a venture the
greater the chances of success," he said at last; "furnish me with one
petty officer intimately acquainted with the country between Zaragoza
and San Ildefonso, and I will ask no more."
Cabrera drew a long breath and looked at the young man with infinitely
more approval than he had before manifested.
"You are right," he said, "three times right! If you fail, there are
fewer to go to the gallows. In prison fewer ill-sewn wine-skins to leak
information. If you succeed, there are also fewer to divide the credit
and the reward. For my own part, I do not think you will succeed, but I
will provide you with the best man in my command for your purpose and in
addition heartily wish you well out of your adventure!"
Cabrera was indeed immensely relieved to find the desires of our hero so
moderate. He had been directed to supply him with whatever force he
required, and he expected to be deprived of a regiment at least, at a
most critical time in the affairs of the Absolute King.
"Young man," he said, "you will certainly be shot or hanged before you
are a month older. Nevertheless in the mean time I would desire to have
the honour of shaking you by the hand. If you were not to die so soon,
undoubtedly you would go far! It is a pity. And the Cristinos are bad
shots. They will not do the job half as creditably as my fellows would
have done it for you this morning!"
The man who was chosen by Cabrera to accompany them on their mission was
of a most remarkable appearance. Tall, almost as tall as El Sarria, he
was yet distinguished from his fellows by a notable gauntness and
angularity of figure.
"A step-ladder with the bottom bars missing!" was Rollo's mental
description of him, as he stood before them in a uniform jacket much too
tight for him, through which his ribs showed not unlike the spars of a
ladder.
But in other respects Sergeant Cardono was a remarkable man. The iron
gravity of his countenance, seamed on the right-hand side by a deep
scar, took no new expression when he found himself detailed by his
general for this new and dangerous mission.
With a single salute he fell out and instantly attached himself to
Rollo, whom he relieved of his knapsack and waterbottle on the spot.
Sergeant Cardono paid no attention whatever to the other three, whom he
evidently regarded as very subordinate members of the expedition.
As soon as they arrived at the village where they were to part from the
command of Cabrera, Sergeant Cardono promptly disappeared. He was not
seen for several hours, during which Rollo and El Sarria wandered here
and there endeavouring in that poor place to pick up some sustenance
which would serve them in lieu of a dinner. They had but poor success. A
round of black bread, a fowl of amazing age, vitality, and muscular
development, with a few snails, were all that they could obtain by their
best persuasions, aided by the money with which Rollo was plentifully
supplied. John Mortimer looked disconsolately on. He had added a little
ham on his own account, which last he had brought in his saddle-bags
from the venta of Sarria. But everything pointed to a sparse meal, and
even the philosophic Etienne shrugged his shoulders and departed to
prospect at a certain house half a mile up the road where, as they had
ridden rapidly by, a couple of pretty girls had looked out curiously at
the tossing Carlist _boinas_.
Rollo and El Sarria were carrying their scanty provend to a house where
a decent-looking woman had agreed to cook it for them, when their gloomy
reveries were interrupted by a sudden apparition which burst upon them
as they stood on the crest of a deep hollow.
The limestone hills had been rent asunder at the place, and from the
bare faces of the rocks the neighbouring farmers and villagers had
quarried and carried away such of the overhanging blocks as could easily
be trimmed to suit their purposes.
Part of what remained had been shaped into a _hornito_, or stone oven,
under which a fire had been kindled, and a strange figure moved about,
stirring the glowing charcoal with a long bar of iron. On a smaller
hearth nearer at hand a second fire blazed, and the smell of fragrant
cookery rose to the expectant and envious nostrils of the four.
It was Sergeant Cardono, who moved about whistling softly, now attending
to the steaming _olla_, now watching the rising bread in the _hornito_.
Perceiving Rollo, he saluted gravely and remarked, "Dinner will be
served in half an hour." The others, as before, he simply ignored. But
in deference to his new commander he stopped whistling and moved about
with his lean shoulders squared as if on parade.
When the bread and the skinny chicken were placed in his hands, he
glanced at them with somewhat of superciliousness.
"The bread will serve for crumbs," he said, and immediately began to
grate the baton-like loaf with a farrier's hoof-rasp which he used in
his culinary operations. "But this," he added, as he turned over the
bird, "is well stricken in years, and had better be given to the
recruits. They have young teeth and have had practice upon dead
artillery mules!"
So saying, he went casually to the edge of the little quarry, whistled a
peculiar note and tossed the bird downward to some person unseen, who
appeared from nowhere in particular for the purpose of receiving it.
When the dinner was ready Sergeant Cardono announced it to Rollo as if
he had been serving a prince. And what was the young man's astonishment
to find a table, covered with a decent white cloth, under the shelter of
a limestone rock, spread for three, and complete even to table napkins,
which the sergeant had tied into various curious shapes.
As they filed down the slope the sergeant stood at attention, but when
El Sarria passed he quickly beckoned him aside with a private gesture.
"You and I will eat after the foreigners," he explained.
El Sarria drew himself up somewhat proudly, but Sergeant Cardono
whispered in his ear two or three words which appeared to astonish him
so much that he did as he was bid, and stood aside while John Mortimer
and Etienne de Saint Pierre seated themselves.
But Rollo, who had no great love for eating, and considered one man just
as much entitled to respect as another, would not sit down till El
Sarria was accommodated also.
"May it please your Excellency, Don Ramon and I have much to say to each
other," quoth the Sergeant, with great respect, "besides your honour is
aware--the garlic--the onions--we of this country love them?"
"But so do I," cried Rollo, "and I will not have distinctions made on
this expedition. We are all to risk our lives equally and we shall all
fare equally, and if we are caught our dose of lead or halter-hemp will
be just the same."
Here El Sarria interrupted.
"With respect," he said, "it is true that this gentleman hath some
private matters to communicate to me which have nothing to do with the
object of our mission. I crave your permission that for to-day I may
dine apart with him!"
After this there was no more to be said. El Sarria helped the sergeant
to serve the meal, which was at once the proof of his foraging ability
and his consummate genius as a cook. For though the day was Friday, the
soup was very far from _maigre_. The stew contained both lamb and fresh
pork cut into generous cubes with a sufficiency of savoury fat included.
A sausage had been sliced small for seasoning and the whole had been so
smothered in _garbanzos_, haricot beans, rice, mixed with strips of
toothsome salt fish, that John Mortimer bent and said a well-deserved
blessing over the viands.
"I don't usually in this country," he explained, "but really this is
what my good old father would call a manifest providence. That fellow of
ours will prove a treasure."
"It seems so," said Rollo, a little grimly, "that is, if he can scout
and fight as well as he can cater and cook."
For himself the young Scot cared little what he ate, and would have
dined quite cheerfully on dry bread and water, if any one would have
listened to his stories of the wonders of his past life or the yet more
wonderful achievements of his future. He would have sat and spun yarns
concerning the notches on Killiecrankie at a dyke-back, though he had
not tasted food for twenty-four hours, with the utmost composure and
relish. But his companions were of another kidney, being all valiant
trencher-men--John Mortimer desiring chiefly quantity in his eating,
while Etienne, no mean cook himself, desiderated rather variety and
delicacy in the dishes which were set before him.
At all events the dinner was a great success, though the Sergeant, who
evinced the greatest partiality for Rollo, often reproached him with
eating little, or inquired anxiously if the sauce of a certain dish
were not to his taste. Rollo, in the height of his argument, would
hastily affirm that it was delicious, and be off again in chase of some
deed of arms or daring, leaving the Sergeant's _chef-d'oeuvre_
untasted on his plate.
At this the Sergeant shook his head in private to El Sarria.
"It will stand in his way, I fear me," he said sententiously; "was there
ever a notable general yet who had not a fine belly to wag before him
upon horseback? 'Tis as necessary as the cock's feathers in his hat. Now
there is your cut-and-thrust officer who is good for nothing but to be
first in charges and to lead forlorn hopes--this colonel of yours is
just the figure for him. I have seen many a dozen of them get the lead
between their ribs and never regretted it before. But it is a devil's
pity that this young cockerel is not fonder of his dinner. How regardeth
he the women?"
This last question was asked anxiously, yet with some hope. But this
also El Sarria promptly scattered to the winds.
"I do not think that he regards them at all! He has scarcely looked at
one of them ever since I first knew him."
Sergeant Cardono groaned, seemingly greatly perturbed in spirit.
"I feared as much," he said, shaking his head; "he hath not the right
wandering eye. Now, that young Frenchman is a devil untamed! And the
Englishman--well, though he is deeper, he also hath it in him. But the
colonel is all for fighting and his duty. It is easy to see that he will
rise but little higher. When was there ever a great soldier without a
weakness for a pretty woman and a good dinner? Why, the thing is
against nature. Now, my father fought in the War of the Independence,
and the tales that he told of El Gran' Lor'--he was a soldier if you
like, worthy of the white plumes! A cook all to himself closer at his
elbow than an aide-de-camp--and as to the women--ah----!"
Sergeant Cardono nodded as one who could tell tales and he would. Yet
the Sergeant Cardono found some reason to change his mind as to Rollo's
qualifications for field-officership before the end of their first day
apart from Cabrera.
It was indeed with a feeling of intense relief that the little company
of five men separated from the white and red _boinas_ of the
butcher-general's cavalcade. Well-affected to them as Cabrera might be
for the time being, his favour was so brief and uncertain, his affection
so tiger-like, that even Sergeant Cardono sighed a sigh of satisfaction
when they turned their horses' heads towards the far-away Guadarrama
beyond which lay the goal of their adventuring.
Presently the tongues of the little cavalcade were unloosed. El Sarria
and Sergeant Cardono having found subjects of common interest, communed
together apart like old friends. John Mortimer and Etienne, who
generally had little to say to each other, conversed freely upon
wine-growing and the possibility of introducing cotton-spinning into the
South of France. For Etienne was not destitute of a certain Gascon eye
to the main chance.
Rollo alone rode gloomily apart. He was turning over the terms of his
commission in his mind, and the more he thought, the less was he
satisfied. It was not alone the desperateness of the venture that
daunted Rollo, but the difficulty of providing for the Queen-Regent and
little princess when captured. There were a couple of hundred miles to
ride back to those northern fastnesses where they would be safe; for the
most part without cover and through country swarming with Nationals and
Cristino partisans.
Riding thus in deep meditation, Rollo, whose gaze was usually so alert,
did not observe away to the right a couple of horses ridden at speed and
rapidly overtaking their more tired beasts.
El Sarria, however, did not fail to note them, but, fearing a belated
message of recall from General Cabrera, he did not communicate his
discovery to his companions, contenting himself with keeping his eye
upon the approaching riders.
Rollo was therefore still advancing, his reins flung loosely upon his
beast's neck and his whole attitude betokening a melancholy resignation,
a couple of lengths before his companions, when a sudden clattering of
hoofs startled him. He looked up, and there, on her white mare,
well-lathered at girth and bridle, was little Concha Cabezos, sitting
her panting beast with the grace of the true Andaluse.
Her hair was a little ruffled by the wind. Her cheeks and lips were
adorably red. There was a new and brilliant light in her eye; and after
one curiously comprehensive glance at the company, she turned about to
look for her companion, La Giralda, who presently cantered up on a
lumbering Estramenian gelding. La Giralda sat astride as before, her
lower limbs, so far as these were apparent, being closely clad in
leather, a loose skirt over them preserving in part the appearance of
sex.
Rollo was dumb with sheer astonishment. He could only gaze at the
flushed cheek, the tingling electric glances, the air completely
unconscious and innocent of the girl before him.
"Concha!" he cried aloud. "Concha--what do you here? I thought--I
imagined you were safe at the Convent of the Holy Innocents!"
And from behind Sergeant Cardono marked his cheek, alternately paling
and reddening, his stammering tongue and altered demeanour, with the
utmost satisfaction.
"Good--good," he muttered under his breath to El Sarria; "he will make a
true general yet. The saints be praised for this weakness! If only he
were fonder of his dinner all might yet be well!"