PALACE BURGLARS
The startling announcement of the Sergeant at once set the whole party
in motion. Their suspicions of the morning were cast to the winds, as
the Sergeant and La Giralda in turn related their adventures. Concha,
having formerly vouched so strongly for the old gipsy woman, now nodded
triumphantly across to Rollo, who on his part listened intently. As
Sergeant Cardono proceeded the young man leaned further and further
forward, breathing deeply and regularly. The expression on his face was
that of fierce and keen resolution.
The Sergeant told all the tale as it had happened, reserving only the
identification of himself with the famous Jose Maria of Ronda, which the
gipsies had made on the strength of the red mark about his neck, now
once more concealed under his military stock. Cardono, however, made no
secret that he was of the blood of Egypt, and set down to this fact all
that he had been able to accomplish. In swift well-chosen words he told
of the fierce little girl with the dark hair and blue eyes, who declared
herself to be the daughter of Munoz, sometime paramour and now reputed
husband of the Queen-Regent--making it clear that she had indeed planned
the wholesale slaughter, not only of those in the palace, but also of
the inhabitants of the town of San Ildefonso.
Then in her turn La Giralda told of her visit to the pavilion, of the
little Queen, passionate, joyous, kindly natured, absolutely Spanish,
till the hearts of her hearers melted to the tale.
"Our orders are to capture her and her mother the Regent," said Rollo,
thoughtfully. "It would therefore serve our purpose but ill if we
permitted these two to be sacrificed to the bloodthirsty fury of a mob
of plunderers!"
"Then the sooner we find ourselves within the gates, the more chance we
shall have of saving them both!" said the Sergeant. "Serve out the
_puchero_, La Giralda!"
Concha had taken no part in the discussion. But she had listened with
all her ears, and now in the pause that followed she declared her
unalterable intention of making one of the party.
"I also am of Andalucia," she said with calm determination, "there are
two others of my country here who will answer for me. You cannot leave
me alone, and La Giralda will be needed as guide when once you reach the
palace precincts. I shall not be in the way, I promise you, and if it
comes to gun and pistol, there I think you will not find me wanting!"
In his heart and though he made several objections, Rollo was glad
enough to give way. For with all the unknown dangers of the night before
them, and the certainty of bloodshed when the gipsies should attack, he
relished still less the thought of leaving Concha alone in that pit on
the chill side of Guadarrama.
"I promise you, Colonel, the maid will be worth her billet," said the
Sergeant, "or else she is no true Andaluse. To such an one in old days I
have often trusted----"
Thus far Cardono had proceeded when suddenly he broke off his
reminiscence, and with a paternal gesture patted Concha's arm as she was
bending over to transfer a second helping of the _puchero_ to his dish.
The party was now in excellent marching order, well-provisioned,
well-fed, rested, and provided with the best and most recent
information. Even John Mortimer's slow English blood developed some
latent Puritanic fire, and he said, "Hang me if I do not fight for the
little girl who was willing to pay for the _whole_ of the goat-milk!"
To fight for a Queen, who at the early age of five was prepared to give
a wholesale order like that, appeared to John Mortimer a worthy and
laudable deed of arms. He was free indeed to assist in taking her
captive, if by so doing he could further the shipping of the Priorato he
himself had paid for. But to make over to a set of thieves and murderers
a girl who had about her the makings of a good customer and a woman of
business habits, stirred every chivalric feeling within him.
The night was so dark that it was resolved that the party should leave
their horses behind them in the stables of the deserted farm. They could
then proceed on foot more softly and with more safety to themselves. To
this La Giralda, knowing that they must return that way, readily
assented. For the thought of the dead woman she had left in the
first-floor room haunted her, and even in the darkness of the night she
could see the stark outlines of the sheet she had spread over the body.
So it came to pass that once more horseshoe iron clattered, and there
was a flashing of lights and a noise of voices about the lonely and
stricken farmhouse. But only La Giralda gave a thought to the little
grave in the shady corner of the garden, and only she promised herself
to revisit it when the stern work of the night should be over and the
dawn of a calmer morning should have arisen.
Now, as soon as Sergeant Cardono returned, he placed himself as
completely as formerly under the orders of Rollo. He was no more Jose
Maria the famous gipsy, but Sergeant Cardono of the army of H.M. Carlos
Quinto, and Senor Rollo was his colonel. Like a good scout he was ready
to advise, but to the full as ready to hold his tongue and obey.
And Rollo, though new to his position, was not above benefiting
continually by his wisdom, and as a matter of fact it was the Sergeant
who, in conjunction with La Giralda, led the little expedition down the
perilous goat-track by which the old gipsy had followed her flock in the
morning. As usual Concha kept her place beside Rollo, with Mortimer and
Etienne a little behind, while El Sarria, taciturn but alert as usual,
brought up the rear.
It can hardly be said that they carried with them any extraordinary
elements of success. Indeed, in one respect they were at a manifest
disadvantage. For in an expedition of this kind there ought to be one
leader of dignity, character, and military genius far beyond the others.
But among this little band which stole so quietly along the
mountain-paths of the Guadarrama, beneath the frowning snow-clad brow of
Penalara, there was not one who upon occasion could not have led a
similar forlorn hope. Each member of the party possessed a character
definite and easily to be distinguished from all the others. It was an
army of officers without any privates.
Still, since our Firebrand, Rollo the Scot, held the nominal leadership,
and his quick imperious character made that chieftainship a reality,
there was at least a chance that they might bring to a successful
conclusion the complex and difficult task which was before them.
* * * * *
They now drew near to the palace, which, as one descends the mountains,
is approached first. The town of San Ildefonso lay further to the right,
an indistinguishable mass of heaped roofs and turrets without a light or
the vestige of a street apparent in the gloom. It seemed to Rollo a
strange thing to think of this stricken town lying there with its dead
and dying, its empty tawdry lodgings from which the rich and gay of the
Court had fled so hastily, leaving all save their most precious
belongings behind, the municipal notices on the door, white crosses
chalked on a black ground, while nearer and always nearer approached the
fell gipsy rabble intent on plunder and rapine.
Even more strange, however, seemed the case of the royal palace of La
Granja. Erected at infinite cost after the pattern of Versailles and
Marly, the smallness of its scale and the magnificence of its natural
surroundings caused it infinitely to surpass either of its models in
general effect. It had, however, never been intended for defence, nor
had the least preparation been made in case of attack. It was doubtless
presumed that whenever the Court sojourned there, the royal personages
would arrive with such a guard and retinue as, in that lonely place,
would make danger a thing to be laughed at.
But no such series of circumstances as this had ever been thought of;
the plague which had fallen so heavily and as it seemed mysteriously and
instantaneously upon the town; the precincts of the palace about to be
invaded by a foe more fell than Frank or Moor; the guards disappeared
like snow in the sun, and the only protection of the lives of the
Queen-Regent and her daughter, a band of Carlists sent to capture their
persons at all hazards.
Verily the whole situation was remarkably complex.
The briefest look around convinced Rollo that it would be impossible for
so small a party to hold the long range of iron palisades which
surrounded the palace. These were complete, indeed, but their extent was
far too great to afford any hope of keeping out the gipsies without
finding themselves taken in the rear. They must hold La Granja itself,
that was clear. There remained, therefore, only the problem of finding
entrance.
Between the porter's lodge and the great gates near the _Colegiata_ they
discovered a ladder left somewhat carelessly against a wall where
whitewashing had been going on during the day, some ardent royal
tradesman having ventured back, preferring the chance of the plague to
the abandonment of his contract.
This they at once appropriated, and Rollo and the Sergeant, being the
two most agile of the company, prepared to mount.
If the time had been less critical, and a disinterested observer had
been available, it would at this moment have been interesting to observe
the demeanour of Concha. Feeling that in a manner she was present on
sufferance, she could not of course make any objection to the plan of
escalade, nor could she offer to accompany Rollo and the Sergeant, but
with clasped hands and tightly compressed lips she stood beneath,
repeating under her breath quick-succeeding prayers for the safety of
one (or both) of the adventurers.
So patent and eager was her anxiety even in the gloom of the night that
La Giralda, to whom her agitation was manifest, laid her hand on the
girl's arm and whispered in her ear that she must be brave, a true
Andaluse, and not compromise the expedition by any spoken word.
Concha turned indignantly upon her, shaking off her restraining hand as
she did so.
"Do you think I am a fool?" she whispered. "I will do nothing to spoil
their chances. But oh, Giralda, at any moment he might be shot!"
"Trust Jose Maria. He hath taken risks far greater than this," said La
Giralda in a low voice, wilfully mistaking her meaning. But Concha,
quite unconsoled, did nothing but clasp her hands and quicken her
supplications to the Virgin.
The ladder was reared against the gilded iron railing and Rollo mounted,
immediately dropping lightly down on the further side. The Sergeant
followed, and presently both were on the ground. At a word from Rollo,
El Sarria pushed the ladder over and the two received it and laid it
along the parapet in a place where it would remain completely hidden
till wanted.
The two moved off together in the direction of the porter's lodge, at
the door of which the Sergeant knocked lightly, and then, obtaining no
answer, with more vehemence. A window was lifted and a frightened voice
asked who came there at that time of night.
The Sergeant answered with some sharpness that they wished for the key
of the great gate.
Upon this the same old woman who had ushered out La Giralda appeared
trembling at the lattice, and was but little relieved when the Sergeant,
putting on his most serious air, informed her that her life was in the
utmost danger, and that she must instantly come downstairs, open the
gate, and accompany them to the palace.
"I knew it," quavered the old woman, "I knew it since ever my husband
went away with the soldiers and left me here alone. I shall be murdered
among you, but my blood will be on his hands. Indeed, sirs, he hath
never treated me well, but spent his wages at the wine tavern, giving me
but a beggarly pittance. Nay, how do I know but he had an intent in thus
deserting me? He hath, and I can prove it, cast eyes of desire on Maria
of the pork-shop, only because she is younger and more comely than I,
who had grown old and wrinkled bearing him children and cooking him
_ollas_! Aye, and small thanks have I got for either. As indeed I have
told him hundreds of times. Such a man! A pretty fellow to be head
porter at a Queen's gate! I declare I will inform her Royal Majesty this
very night, if I am to go to the palace, that will I!"
"Come down immediately and let us in, my good woman," said the Sergeant,
soothingly. For it appeared as if this torrent of accusation against the
absent might continue to flow for an indefinite period.
"But how am I to know that you are not the very rogues and thieves of
whom you tell?" persisted the old lady with some show of reason.
"Well," said the Sergeant forbearingly, "as to that you must trust us,
mother. It is the best you can do. But fear nothing, we will treat you
gently as a cat her kitten, and you will come up to the palace with us
to show us in what part of it dwell the Queen and her daughter."
"Nay, not if it be to do harm to my lady and the sweet little maid who
this very day brought a pail of milk to poor old Rebeca the portress,
whose husband hath forsaken her for a pork-shop trull. I would rather
die!"
Rollo was about to speak, but the Sergeant whispered that the old lady
was now in such good case to admit them, that she might be frighted by
his foreign accent.
In a few moments the woman could be heard stiffly and grumblingly
descending the stairs, the door was opened, and Rebeca appeared with the
key in her hand.
"How many are there of your party?" she asked, her poor hand shaking so
that she could scarcely fit the key in the lock, and her voice sunk to a
quavering whisper.
"There are five men of us and two women," said the Sergeant, quickly.
"Now we are all within, pray give me the key and show us the road to the
Queen's apartments."
"Two women!" grumbled the poor old creature, whose mind appeared to be
somewhat unhinged; "that will never suit her Royal Highness the Regent,
especially if they are young and well-looking. She loves not such, any
more than I love the hussy of the pork-shop. Though, indeed, my man hath
not the roving eye in his head as her Senor Munoz hath. Ah, the saints
have mercy on all poor deserted women! But what am I saying? If the
Lady Cristina heard me speak ill of him, she would set my poor old neck
in the garrote. Then--crack--all would be over!"
The party now advanced towards the palace, which in the gloom of a
starless night was still entirely hidden from their sight, save as a
darker mass set square against the black vault of heaven.
By this time Concha and La Giralda had taken the trembling portress by
the arms, and were bringing her along in the van, whispering comfort in
her ears all the way. The sergeant and Rollo came next, with Mortimer
and Etienne behind, a naked blade in the hand of each, for Rollo had
whispered the word to draw swords. This, however, El Sarria interpreted
to mean his faithful Manchegan knife, to which he trusted more than to
any sword of Toledo that ever was forged.
At any other time they could not have advanced a score of yards without
being brought to a stand-still by the challenge of a sentry, the whistle
of a rifle bullet, or the simultaneous turning out of the guard. But now
no such danger was to be apprehended. All was still as a graveyard
before cock-crow.
It is hard, in better and wiser days, when things are beginning to be
traced to their causes, to give any idea of the effect of the first
appearance of Black Cholera among a population at once so simple and so
superstitious as that of rural Spain. The inhabitants of the great
towns, the Cristino armies in the field, the country-folk of all
opinions were universally persuaded that the dread disease was caused by
the monks in revenge for the despites offered to them; especially by the
hated Jesuits, who were supposed to have thrown black cats alive into
rivers and wells in order to produce disease by means of witchcraft and
diabolical agency.
So universal was this belief that so soon as the plague broke out in any
city or town the neighbouring monasteries were immediately plundered,
and the priors and brethren either put to death or compelled to flee for
their lives.
Some such panic as this had stampeded the troops stationed in and about
the little town of San Ildefonso, when the first cases of cholera proved
fatal little more than a week before. A part of these had rushed away to
plunder the rich monastery of El Parral a few miles off, lying in the
hollow beneath Segovia. Others, breaking up into parties of from a dozen
to a hundred, had betaken themselves over the mountains in the direction
of Madrid.
So the Queen-Regent and the handsome Senor Munoz remained perforce at La
Granja, for the two-fold reason that the palace of Madrid was reported
to be in the hands of a rebellious mob, and that the disbanding troops
had removed with them every sort and kind of conveyance, robbed the
stables of the horses, and plundered the military armoury of every
useful weapon.
They had not, however, meddled with the treasures of the palace, nor
offered any indignity to the Queen-Regent, or to any of the inmates of
La Granja. But as the Sergeant well knew, not thus would these be
treated by the roving bands of gipsies, who in a few hours would be
storming about the defenceless walls. No resource of oriental torture,
no refinement of barbarity would be omitted to compel the Queen and her
consort to give up the treasures without which it was well known that
they never travelled. Obviously, therefore, there was no time to be
lost.
They went swiftly round the angle of the palace, their feet making no
sound on the clean delicious sward of those lawns which make the place
such a marvel in the midst of tawny, dusty, burnt-up Spain. In a brief
space the party arrived unnoted and unchecked under the wall of the
northern part.
Lights still burnt in two or three windows on the second floor, though
all was dark on the face which the palace turned towards the south and
the town of San Ildefonso.
"These are the windows of the rooms occupied by my lady the
Queen-Regent," whispered the portress, Rebeca, pointing upwards; "but
promise me to commit no murder or do any hurt to the little maid."
"Be quiet, woman," muttered Rollo, more roughly than was his wont; "we
are come to save both of them from worse than death. Sergeant Cardono,
bring the ladder!"
The Sergeant disappeared, and it was not many seconds before he was back
again adjusting its hooks to the side of an iron balcony in front of one
of the lighted rooms. Almost before he had finished Rollo would have
mounted, impetuously as was his custom, but the Sergeant held him back
by the arm.
"I crave your forgiveness," he whispered, "but if you will pardon me
saying so, I have much more experience in such matters than you. Permit
me in this single case to precede you! We know not what or whom we may
meet with above!"
Nevertheless, though the Sergeant mounted first, Rollo followed so
closely that his hands upon the rounds of the ladder were more than once
in danger of being trodden upon by the Sergeant's half-boots.
Presently they stood together on the iron balcony and peered within. A
tall dark man leaned against an elaborately carved mantelpiece
indolently stroking his glossy black whiskers. A lady arrayed in a
dressing-gown of pink silk reaching to her feet was seated on a chair,
and submitting restlessly enough to the hands of her maid, who was
arranging her hair for the night, in the intervals of a violent but
somewhat one-sided quarrel which was proceeding between the pair.
Every few moments the lady would start from her seat and with her eyes
flashing fire she would advance towards the indolent dandy by the
mantelpiece as if with purpose of personal assault. At such seasons the
stout old Abigail instantly remitted her attentions and stood perfectly
well trained and motionless, with the brush and comb in her hand, till
it pleased her lady to sit down again.
All the while the gentleman said no word, but watched the development of
the scene with the utmost composure, passing his beautiful white fingers
through his whiskers and moustache after the fashion of a comb. The
lady's anger waxed higher and higher, and with it her voice also rose in
an equal ratio. What the end would have been it is difficult to
prophesy, for the Sergeant, realising that time was passing quickly,
produced an instrument with a broad flat blade bent at an acute angle to
the handle, and inserting it sharply into the crack of the French
window, opened it with a click which must have been distinctly audible
within, even in the height of the lady's argument.