IN THE WOODS.
But as when the night is darkest the dawn is near at hand, so the
sorrowful prisoners were not left altogether without comfort for long,
even though this comfort was in itself a sad one. One evening, three
days after Etta had heard the news in the hall, Felipa lay wearily on
the couch beside the open window, vainly longing to get out and breathe
the pure air in what had once been her lovely garden, but which was now
sadly trampled over.
The poor girl looked much changed, and it was all Catalina and Etta
could do to keep her from spending most of her time in weeping silently.
She would not touch her guitar, and seemed to be fretting her life away.
These three days had also made a great difference in her appearance.
She kept constantly asking where Carlo was, what could have become of
him; and patient Etta, with ready invention, tried to find answers for
her friend which might calm her for a little while. As to Catalina, she
could only moan and bewail their evil fortune, and wish every bad thing
she could imagine to overtake the pirates.
'If I could but go out,' sighed Felipa, 'I could find Carlo. I am sure
he must be hidden away in the forest. But come quickly, Etta: see, who
is coming in; some of the soldiers? Yes, yes; they are Spanish
soldiers, and they are certainly coming to save us.'
'Hush, dear Felipa; don't you see that they are themselves guarded? no,
these must be the prisoners from Chagres, and--oh, yes--here are some
women and---- Surely--yes, it is Dona Elena!'
Felipa clapped her hands for joy, causing the lady to look up; and then
the sight of her aunt's sad face made the girl suddenly draw back. In
truth it was Dona Elena; but how changed she was! The face that looked
out from beneath her black veil was hardly recognisable.
In spite of this, Felipa was all excitement to know if her aunt would be
allowed to come up to see them. Was she going to be left here, or what?
These questions were soon answered, for in a few minutes Dona Elena was
escorted to the sitting-room, and Felipa was soon sobbing on the
motherly breast of her aunt, who, sad as she was herself, was shocked at
the change in her little niece, whom she had last seen a merry, blooming
girl running races with Etta and Carlo down the lovely green slopes of
the tropical garden.
'My poor darling! Ah, what sad troubles we have all been through! I
can hardly believe it even now; but my dear husband died like a brave
soldier. He was so noble, so true! Alas that such as he should be
sacrificed! But as to our poor Carlo, I cannot find out what has become
of him, though I have asked every one I came near. That terrible
Captain has named such a price for my ransom that I must write to Spain
for the money. My poor brother! When last did you see your father,
Felipa? He has not been here, I am told; but they say he is at St.
Jerome.'
'You will stay with us, will you not, dear Aunt Elena? At least they
will leave us this one comfort of being together. But where is Carlo?
If only we could find out, I should be less unhappy. It is quite true
that our father has not come here for days.'
Dona Elena now told the party all she knew of Carlo and of his brave
escape from the pirate boats in order to give his uncle warning. So
that even though their talk was not cheerful the presence of the elder
lady was a great comfort to the girls, and also to Catalina, who, good
and faithful as she was, could not think out many difficult problems.
That evening they had a last visit from Captain Morgan. He had finished
his work of destruction, or had seen it well in train, and was now going
off in great haste to Chagres to see for himself the treasures found
there.
'Now, Madam,' he said in Spanish to Dona Elena, 'you will stay here and
await my return. I have named the sum that will give you your liberty,
but till every piece of eight is paid you must consider yourself a
prisoner. I am taking your brother Don Estevan del Campo and many of
the people here away with me--for change of air,' he added, laughing,
'but he too will get his liberty when his ransom has been paid. As for
his son, I hear now he escaped as no gentleman ought to do, and so----'
'Carlo never gave his word,' said Etta, indignantly; 'he told us he felt
free to escape if he could.'
'Well, well, you are over-bold, mistress, and it cannot be hunger now
that forces you to plain-speaking. Prithee, courageous elf, have they
brought you enough to eat since your foraging expedition?'
Etta proudly muttered, 'Yes, Sir Captain, I was but defending the
absent.' And evidently Captain Morgan admired her spirit, for he
laughed all the more, as if she had said something very witty.
'Marry, that may be; but mark you, if you know where the boy is hiding,
tell him that every avenue of the castle will be watched during my
absence, and none will enter or go forth from this island without the
knowledge of my trusty men. My boy, young Harry Fenn, has disappeared,
and yet I treated the lad as kindly as if he had been my own son; and,
in faith, when they are found they will be taught to make less free use
of their young legs. I beg to take my leave of you, ladies, and I have
left orders for a good supply of food to be brought; but it were best to
keep indoors, as I cannot answer for accidents. Some of my men are but
foolish rangers, and know nothing of good manners beyond such as Dame
Nature taught 'em.'
'But prithee, Sir Captain, let me say good-bye to my father,' cried
Felipa; and Dona Elena joined in the petition, adding rather bitterly--
'My poor brother will long ago have found how wrong he was to trust you,
bold Captain, and if you are taking him prisoner, at least let him bid
farewell to his sister and his child.'
The Captain had no time, however, to waste on farewells; he declared
this boon was impossible to grant, as the Marquis had already been rowed
out to the ship; but he assured the ladies that he hoped soon to be
back, and that then they should hear great news. With this he went away
as hastily as he had come, and the only comfort that could be extracted
from this visit was the pleasure of seeing the Captain hurry forth from
the great gate of Santa Teresa.
Catalina's muttered farewell did not seem like blessings; but, though
the chief was gone, there were yet many jailors left behind. The guards
were doubled without, although so few were now left within the walls,
every man that could be spared having been taken off to join the great
and long-planned expedition to Panama. The Captain had considered that
a score of men would be well able to guard two women and two girls. He
was, however, more vexed than he cared to show at the disappearance of
Carlo and Harry, and meant to make Captain Brodely pay dearly for his
carelessness; even such a powerful man as the great buccaneer was not
without his share of troubles, for it was only by keeping his men
constantly employed in plunder or adventure that he could prevent mutiny
and discontent.
The sitting-room and the other rooms on the same floor were left to the
ladies, the prisoners having been all taken elsewhere; so that Etta,
utterly tired of the confinement of the two rooms, often crept out to
the window above the balcony, where she could catch a sight of the bay,
and from whence she saw the departure of the fleet. Every time she went
she softly whistled the Indian notes, especially just before sundown,
hoping to see Andreas.
To-day, just as the last sound died away among the great rose bushes,
Etta fancied she heard a very faint echo of her last note. She paused,
straining her ears, then repeated the air again. There was the same
echo. Surely it was, it must be, Andreas! She determined to return
after sunset, but till then she would not mention her ideas, for fear of
having been mistaken.
Catalina was happier now that she was allowed the wherewithal to cook
her meals, and she was never weary of trying to concoct some new dish
out of the ordinary fare provided, in order to tempt poor Felipa, whose
appetite was failing, though she had revived much since her aunt's
arrival.
Etta had been right. Soon after darkness had fallen, suddenly, on the
lovely landscape, she heard the faint rustle of leaves below, and
Andreas crept on to the balcony, looking somewhat like a brown snake.
'Senorita, Heaven be praised that you have come! I wanted to tell you
the news. The noble Senor Carlo is here in St. Catherine--he and the
young Englishman who came with the pirates.'
Etta hardly stifled a cry of joy.
'Where are they? Quick, tell me, Andreas! But do they know the castle
is watched, and that they will be taken if they are found?'
'Yes, yes, but the Senor Carlo cannot come--in fact he is ill, very ill,
Senorita; he has the fever. But we will cure him; the white man does
not know the medicines the Indians use for the fever--these never fail.'
'But how did they come here?'
'I know not much of the story, for the English Senor cannot talk much
Spanish, but they came by night; there was an Indian with them, or they
would have been seen, but the Indians can see in the dark.'
'How glad I am, dear Andreas! Do you want food, and where have you been
all this time? I have been here so often hoping you would come.'
'The English captain sent me to fetch horses and cattle. He watched me
so that I could not come; but now they forget to keep watch. I will
come again to-morrow, Senorita, at sunset. If the noble Senor Carlo
gets better quickly, well; if not, then he must come into the castle.'
'That would be impossible, Andreas,' said Etta; but Andreas smiled as he
disappeared into the darkness.
'But what is the use?' said Felipa, when she heard the wonderful news of
her brother's return. 'Carlo will die if he has only an Indian to nurse
him; and if he gets well Captain Morgan will come and take him
prisoner.'
'That is not trusting the good God, Felipa darling,' said the noble Dona
Elena. 'He will save our dear Carlo if he sees fit. Since my great
trouble I have learnt more than ever to be resigned, and also to trust
Him. Let us get a little bundle of linen ready, Catalina, to send it to
Carlo by Andreas. Wherever they are, poor fellows, they will need that;
and then let us hope for the best; we can do no more for them.'
The next evening Dona Elena accompanied Etta to the balcony; and when
Andreas understood whom she was he explained that Carlo was better, but
still very ill, and that the English Senorito was very anxious to get
him removed to the castle, for they were in the thickest part of the
forest, in a deserted Indian hut, and they had not enough good things
for the sick Carlo.
'If you could hide him I could bring him here to-morrow, noble lady: the
guards watch the wrong places, and now that the whip is not visible the
dogs keep but bad guard.'
'We must chance it,' said Dona Elena, decidedly; 'my poor Carlo must not
die. We are never visited, except twice a day--certainly never after
sunset, for the soldiers are afraid of this half-deserted house. They
fancy it is haunted.'
The two then went back to tell Catalina and Felipa the joyful news that
Carlo was better and would come to them to be nursed. Then they
discussed plans, and at last settled that they would put some blankets
in the cupboard and only bring him out when the visits of the soldiers
and the negroes were over.
'If we must soon be separated, at least let us enjoy each other's
company as long as possible,' said the brave Spanish lady; and Felipa
looked up brightly and smiled more happily than she had done since her
imprisonment.