OUT OF THE DUNGEON.
The furious Spaniard came in like some wild beast, fairly gnashing his
teeth and snarling to himself in his rage.
Clif had but a moment, but he was quick to think; he sprang back to his
old position, slipping his feet into the iron ring and putting his hands
behind him.
And Ignacio never noticed any difference, in fact he did not look at
Clif until he had set down the lantern and shut the heavy door.
He turned the key again and then faced about; touching low and muttering
to himself, he stole swiftly across the floor.
And his gleaming eyes flashed into Clif's face.
"Yankee!" he hissed, "I am back. Do you hear me? Ha, ha!"
As if to make sure that he heard him he struck him once more across the
face.
"Listen!" he cried. "Ha, ha!--and tremble."
Clif's blood rose at that blow, but he held himself back and watched and
waited.
That was a moment of peril for the treacherous Spaniard; what would have
been his terror may be imagined, had he known the victim into whose eyes
he was glaring was clutching in one hand a sharp knife, ready at any
instant to plunge it into him.
But the fellow had no idea of his peril; he was at the very height of
his triumph and his dark, beady eyes gleamed ferociously out of the
shadows of that damp and silent vault.
But he must have noticed that some of the color had come back into
Clif's face.
"You are still defiant," he cried. "You still do not tremble. But
wait--wait till you begin to feel what I have for you. Did you see those
iron things I brought in? Ha, ha! There is one I will fasten about your
forehead and draw it tight till your very brain bursts. And then will
you like it? Hey? Will you turn pale then? Will you scream? Ha, ha!--and
I shall dance around you and watch you. Will you be sorry you interfered
with me then?"
Ignacio might have taunted his victim that way for hours, but he was too
eager and impatient. He whirled about and sprang toward the door.
"Santa Maria!" he panted. "I will get it! I will begin! I must hear him
yelling!"
And he snatched up something from the floor and taking the lantern in
his other hand bounded back toward Clif.
"Are you ready?" he exclaimed. "Yankee pig, begin to scream!"
And he flashed the lantern's light upon him.
That was the crisis of the situation; for as the Spaniard looked he made
the appalling discovery that his victim's feet were untied.
And he staggered back, dazed.
"Por dios!" he gasped.
And that exclamation was his last sound.
Clif had nerved himself for the spring; for he knew that Ignacio might
have a revolver and that no risks could be taken.
But at that instant a dark, shadowy form rose up behind Ignacio.
And one of his own iron instruments was raised above his head. It came
down with a hissing sound, and then a heavy thud.
And Ignacio dropped without a groan, without even a quiver. He lay
perfectly motionless. His villainy was at an end.
Clif had sprung up as he saw that, and he gave a gasp of joy. Then he
sprang toward his deliverer.
The shadowy stranger took no notice of him at first, but stooped and
picked up the lantern, turning the light of it upon Ignacio.
The villain's face was fixed in a look of horror; it made both Clif and
the stranger shudder.
The latter regarded it for a moment silently. The cadet could not see,
but he was fingering a knife, as if undecided what to do.
Who his mysterious deliverer was Clif had no idea. The single ray from
the lantern did not furnish light enough for him to see anything; and
the person had spoken but one word--"Fight."
But the cadet's heart was full of gratitude; he sprang toward the
stranger.
"Who are you?" he cried. "I owe my life to you--let me thank you!"
But the other motioned him back, and then for a few moments there was a
silence, while both stared at Ignacio's silent form.
When the stranger moved it was to point toward the door.
"Go," said he to Clif, in a low, whispering voice. "Go; we will leave
him here."
And with that the mysterious person unlocked the great iron barrier and
followed Clif out. The door clanged upon that ghastly scene, and Clif
Faraday gave a sigh of relief.
Yet there was so much before him that he soon forgot that hideous
nightmare.
For where was he going? And who was this stranger? And why had he
rescued him? And what did he mean to do to Clif?
Nothing could be learned in that dark corridor, for Clif could see no
more there than inside of the room. But the stranger stumbled on and
Clif followed.
They came to an iron ladder, leading up to the floor above. Up that the
man went, the cadet following; that took them to another long stone
passage, dark as ever.
On they went, turning and winding about, but still not hesitating. And
then suddenly the man halted in front of a grated door.
The key was in the lock and the door opened promptly as he turned it.
"Enter," said he.
Clif went in, and he heard the door shut behind him. It flashed over him
then that he had only been taken to another cell.
But when he whirled about he saw that the stranger had entered, too. The
dark figure brushed past him and went across the room. A moment
afterward Clif heard him in the act of striking a match.
And then the light of a lamp lit up the little room. By it the eager
cadet could see his rescuer, and he stared anxiously.
Further secrecy seemed not intended. The stranger faced about and each
looked at the other steadfastly.
What the mysterious man saw was a tall, handsome American in a blue
uniform, his face rather pale.
Clif in turn saw also a man in a blue uniform; he had to take but one
glance to see that he was a lieutenant in the Spanish army.
He was a tall, finely proportioned man, rather young, and with a slight
dark mustache. He had the dark skin and the features of a Spaniard; but
Clif thought he had never seen a finer looking military man.
For a moment Clif gazed at him in silence. Then he stepped toward him.
"Tell me, sir," he said. "Why have you done this?"
The officer answered in a low, quiet voice:
"You will soon know," said he. "Do not be impatient."
"You have saved me from a horrible fate," said the cadet, his voice
choking. "I do not know how to thank you."
"Do not try," answered the other. "You have some one else to thank."
And then he became silent again, watching Clif. He seemed to be very
much interested in him, from the way he studied the American's face. And
once he gave a slight sigh.
Clif looked at him in surprise; but the man turned away, and he went
toward the door.
"I will return soon," said he, again in that quiet, firm voice. "Wait
here."
There was nothing for Clif to do but wait; for when the door shut he was
locked in the cell.
That man's action was a mysterious one indeed. It left the cadet plenty
to think of. He saw now where he got the keys. He was evidently one of
the officers in charge of the castle.
But why had he done it? Clif was utterly baffled before that question.
But it was not for very long; he soon learned, and in a startling and
unexpected way.
Clif had not noticed it, but there was another door to that cell. It was
behind him, leading to a small room in the rear.
While he stood there motionless and lost in thought waiting for the
Spaniard's return, that door was silently opened, and a figure stood
watching him.
And then suddenly it stepped out and came across the room.
The cadet heard it then, and whirled about. He took one glance.
And then he staggered back with a cry of consternation.
It was Bessie Stuart!
For one instant the two stood and stared at each other as if to make
sure that their eyes did not deceive them. And then, with a cry of
delight that came from his very soul, Clif sprang toward the girl.
Bessie Stuart looked as if she had been through some terrible ordeal,
for her face was pale; the emotion of meeting Clif almost overcame her,
and she burst into tears upon his shoulder.
Clif himself was so dazed that he hardly knew what to think. He caught
the girl in his arms to keep her from falling.
"Bessie," he cried, "how on earth did you get here?"
The cadet's brain was in a whirl at that moment. He began to see what
the Spaniard meant when he said it was for some other person's sake that
he had rescued Clif. It was for her sake!
And it must have been by some terrible sacrifice that she had saved him
from the torture.
"Bessie!" he cried. "Tell me--that officer. What----"
The girl looked up through her tears.
"S-sh!" she exclaimed. "It is all right. Wait."
And at that instant Clif heard a key turn in the door, and knew that it
was the man returning.
Clif gazed into the girl's face and he saw a look of joy upon it that
partially reassured him; then he looked up and saw that the Spanish
lieutenant had entered and was watching them.
In his quiet way he studied the faces of the two; he saw the look of
happiness on Bessie Stuart's face, and he must have known that it was
because she had met the cadet again.
Clif saw him press his lips together resolutely. The cadet was watching
him with the intensest anxiety, for he hoped in that man's actions to
read the meaning of this mystery.
But the Spaniard's handsome face showed little emotion, though his chest
heaved and fell as he stood there.
And then suddenly he stepped forward toward the two.
"I have brought it, Miss Stuart," he said, with a dignified bow.
He held out a heavy cloth cape, which the girl flung over her shoulders;
then, leaning on Clif's arm, she stepped toward the door.
"I am ready," she said.
And without another word the officer turned and led the way out of the
cell.
He shut the door and locked it behind him and then went on down the
corridor.
Clif was mystified beyond expression, but he asked no questions. The
three went on silently. Bessie Stuart was so weak that she had to be
half carried.
They had gone but a short way down the long passage before they met a
sentry with a gun upon his shoulder; he glanced at them inquiringly.
But the lieutenant was not one who could be asked for explanations, and
the soldier saluted and passed on.
They passed through two heavily grated doors, each guarded in a similar
way. But still not a word was spoken.
And then suddenly Clif saw the passage broaden out into a wide hall, and
a moment later he came to what he knew to be the great door by which he
had first entered.
There were two men standing on guard there, either sentries or jailers.
Clif could not see which. The party came to a halt.
"Garcia," said the lieutenant, "these are two prisoners, Americans, whom
I have been directed to take across the bay."
The man saluted and bowed respectfully.
"Have you the order?" he inquired.
"I have not. The commander had no time to give one to me. There is some
hurry in the matter, I believe."
"It is somewhat irregular, lieutenant."
"I will assume full responsibility," said the other, quietly.
The man scanned the two prisoners closely.
"They are not even bound," he objected.
"I will assume full responsibility," said the officer again.
He spoke rather sharply; and without another word the man hastened to
swing back the door.
And the three stepped out of that black prison into the open air and
under the broad sky of heaven.
And the lieutenant turned toward the two Americans.
"You are free," he said, quietly. "Fly for your lives!"