A STORMY INTERVIEW.
On our march to the town, Santiago assumed a light-hearted carelessness
that was far from his real feelings. He laughed merrily, made joking
remarks, and behaved generally as if the prospect of a spell of prison
life was most agreeable. This was, of course, mere outside show. He
was too proud to let his captors see his real distress; but his acting
did not deceive me.
We had reached the market-place, and I was wondering at the absence of
the soldiers, when José suddenly appeared, coming from the governor's
house. On seeing us, he approached, saying, "You have been a long
time. I began to think you had missed your way."
"The guide was late in the first place, as the doctor would not take
the nearest way, and we did not hurry. But where are the troops?"
"Off again!" said he, his eyes twinkling: "the colonel has gone for a
little jaunt of ninety miles or so to intercept a Spanish column.
Thank goodness, we have missed that!--How did you leave your men,
major?"
"One is dying, I fear," replied Santiago; "but the others will soon be
all right, unless your doctor kills them!"
"I was sorry to send him," said José, "but I had no choice. He was the
only one in the place available. He didn't offer his services, I can
assure you."
"I can well believe it," laughed the major. "The poor fellow was half
dead with fright when he reached us, and vows he will never risk the
danger of getting down again."
"We must have him tied to the rope, and lowered like a sack of
potatoes. Meanwhile, what is to be done with you?"
"The only suggestion I can make is that you set me free!"
"Perhaps I had better report to the governor," observed José
thoughtfully. "He is Colonel Miller's representative. I daresay he
will parole you till the chief comes."
"No, no!" cried the major hastily; "I've done with paroles! From this
moment I consider myself free to escape."
"To _try_," corrected José. "Well, the effort will fill up your time,
and keep you from being idle. Of course," he added, "it will change
the position a little. We can still remain on friendly terms, only I
must not forget to load my pistol. And now let us interview the
governor."
A sentry stood at the outside gate, and several soldiers were in the
courtyard; but passing through, we entered the house, and found
ourselves in the governor's presence. He was a military-looking man,
though holding no rank in the army--a Spaniard who had recently come
over from the enemy. Two or three officers were in the room, and a
young man sat at a table, writing.
José told his story briefly, concluding with a proposal that the
prisoner should be left in his charge until Colonel Miller's return.
"There is a more agreeable way still," observed the governor, with a
bland smile.--"Major Mariano, I am not unaware either of your name or
your services. I know you for a dashing and brilliant officer, far and
away superior to those nominally above you. I am not without the power
to make you an offer. The Spanish cause is lost; in a few months your
armies will be crushed; Peru will be independent. Until that time you
will languish miserably in prison. Afterwards I cannot pretend to
prophesy your fate; but I offer you an opportunity to escape from the
wreck. Join the Patriot army, and I pledge my word that San Martin
shall give you the rank of colonel at once. In a year it will be your
own fault if you are not a general. Come, what do you say?"
Only a few hours previously I had seen an outburst of temper on
Santiago's part; now I beheld another, which by comparison made the
first appear mild. His eyes literally blazed with anger; his face was
red; he actually quivered with passion. Twice he endeavoured to speak,
and the words choked in his throat. José laid a hand restrainingly on
his shoulder; he flung it off passionately.
"Dog of a traitor!" cried he at last, "do you think the blood of
Santiago Mariano is as base as yours? Do you imagine I am a rat like
you to leave a sinking ship? What! lend my sword to a parcel of
beggarly cutthroats and vagabonds? I would rather eat out my heart in
the blackest dungeon of Peru!"
Once a flush of shame overspread the governor's face, but he recovered
himself promptly, and listened with a bitter smile till the end.
"You shall eat your words if not your heart," he exclaimed brutally;
and turning to an officer, he added, "Rincona, bring in your men and
the heaviest irons that can be found in the prison."
Santiago smiled scornfully; but José, pushing forward, said quietly,
"You cannot do that, señor. This man is my prisoner, for whom I am
responsible to Colonel Miller alone. Until the return of the colonel,
therefore, I cannot let him go from my keeping."
For a moment Rincona hesitated, but at the governor's second command he
left the room, while the other officers clustered round their chief.
José produced a pistol and cocked it, saying coolly, "The man who lays
hands on my prisoner dies."
Santiago turned to him with a pleasant smile. "Thanks, my friend," he
said, "but I cannot let you suffer on my behalf. Besides, there is
Crawford to be considered. The consequences may be fatal to him, as he
is sure to stand by you."
"Don't hesitate on my account, José," said I. But the major's words
had made an impression, and a shadow of annoyance flitted across my
companion's brow.
However, there was little time for thinking. We heard the tramp, tramp
of marching feet, and presently Rincona entered, followed by about a
dozen soldiers.
"The irons!" roared the governor, beside himself with passion; "where
are the irons?"
"I have sent for them, sir," replied Rincona.
"You might have spared yourself the trouble," remarked José; "they
shall not be put on."
"Yes, yes!" exclaimed Santiago; "what does it matter? Better so than
that you two should lose your lives."
I looked at José. His lips were set like a vice, and I knew that no
power on earth could move him now. The situation was decidedly
unpleasant, and unfortunately there seemed to be no way out. True, he
might kill the governor, but that would only still further complicate
matters.
The soldiers, as usual, stood with impassive faces; the affair was none
of theirs, save so far as obeying orders went. The officers were
restless and uneasy, and one of them kept up a whispered conversation
with the governor, who listened impatiently, and from time to time
shook his head.
At last two other men arrived, bearing a set of heavy irons, and once
again Santiago turned appealingly, but without effect, to José.
One might have heard a pin drop when the governor, sheltering behind
his officers, cried in a loud voice, "Put that man in irons!"
"Stand still!" said José, raising his pistol, and speaking in the
Indian dialect.
How the dispute would have ended I cannot tell, but at that moment a
happy inspiration flashed into my mind. The soldiers were all Indians,
and judging by their appearance, Indians of the mountains. Was it
possible that any of them acknowledged the authority of the Silver Key?
If so, we were safe. It was a poor chance, but there seemed to be no
other.
Trembling with impatience, I opened my shirt at the neck, and drew
forth the brigand chief's gift. At first no one took any notice; but
when I held the key to view, the Indians raised a shout of mingled joy
and surprise. Then I looked at Santiago and laughed, saying, "We are
safe!"
The Indians jabbered away in their own language, talking with one
another, and pointing to the emblem of authority which hung from my
neck. The governor stood like a man in a dream; the officers gazed
alternately at me and the native soldiers, as if doubting the evidence
of their senses.
"How many of you are followers of the Silver Key, and of Raymon
Sorillo?" I asked.
"All, all, master!" they cried.
"And those outside?"
"All, all!" they again shouted.
"I can trust you to help me?"
"To the death, master!" they cried with one voice.
At that I turned to the governor, saying with a smile, "The position is
changed, señor. I have but to raise my hand, and you will feel the
weight of your own irons. But there is no need to quarrel. Colonel
Miller will be here in a few days, and he shall decide between us.
Meanwhile we will guard the prisoner."
The governor nearly choked with anger, and threatened violently that as
soon as the colonel returned he would have us all shot. However, as it
was evident that the soldiers would obey my orders, he raised no
further objection to our taking Santiago away.
"By St. Philip," exclaimed the major, "the room was hot! Are you a
magician, Crawford?"
"Upon my word I begin to think so. At any rate, I possess a magical
key."
"Which has saved our lives," observed José grimly.
"And I suspect," laughed Santiago, "that once upon a time it unlocked
the door of a prison cell! But won't those natives suffer for this?"
"I don't think so. They are too strong, and their chief has more power
in Peru than the viceroy and San Martin combined."
"You know him, then?"
"Yes, and so does José. He has done me good service, for which I am
grateful, though I could never like the man. But here we are at the
house. The good folk will wonder at our bringing an uninvited guest."
Fortunately a room had been set apart for us, so we could talk at our
ease. I was burning to tell José about my father, but first of all we
had to come to an understanding with Santiago. This time he made no
demur at giving his parole. "In fact," said he gaily, "you have forced
my hand, and I have no choice."
"So much the better," remarked José; "we may as well be comfortable
together till the colonel arrives."
"And after that we may be hanged comfortably together!" laughed the
major. "How do you like the prospect?"
"I can trust Miller. He is an honourable man, and will do what is
right. It is Crawford who will suffer for inciting the troops to
mutiny."
"José," said I presently, "I haven't told you that Major Mariano is an
old friend of mine."
"And at one time his jailer," interrupted Santiago. "That ought to
make him feel grateful."
"Oh," exclaimed José, "you are the captain Jack has often talked about!
Well, I'm glad we have been able to do a little for you."
"This morning while we were waiting for your precious doctor," I
continued, "he told me a very startling piece of news."
"Yes?" said José.
"About my father."
José sprang to his feet, demanding fiercely, "What do you know of Señor
Crawford, major? Don Eduardo came to his end by foul means: he was not
slain by the government, but by some one who hoped to profit by his
death."
"According to the major's information, he was not slain at all," I
said, and proceeded to relate the story.
José listened attentively to every word, and then asked Santiago
innumerable questions. Like myself, he displayed great excitement, but
I judged from his expression that he entertained little hope of my
father being still alive.
"The truth is," said he, "Don Eduardo had made numerous powerful
enemies both in public and private life; and as we all know, any stick
is good enough to beat a dog with. Besides, he owned vast estates,
and--"
"Go on!" laughed Santiago as José hesitated; "the king's party put him
to death in order to seize them!"
"No, no," said José hotly; "I don't tar all Spaniards with the same
brush. Still, they aren't all saints either, and I say some of them
killed him under cloak of the government. And some day," he added, "I
will prove it. As to his being alive, I think there is small chance of
it.--And Jack, my boy, I would not mention the matter to your mother."
"But," said I, clinging to my shred of hope, "he was not killed in the
mountains, and we have heard nothing since."
José let me talk, and listened kindly to my arguments, but I noticed
that none of them made any impression. At the best, he said, my father
had been thrown into prison seriously hurt, and it was not likely that
he had survived the confinement.
"Have you ever seen the casemates at Callao, major?" he asked.
"Yes," said Santiago, "and very unhealthy places they are. But there
are more prisons than those in Peru."
It would be wearisome to repeat our conversation, for, after all, we
were arguing in the dark, having only the major's imperfect story to go
by. Besides, as José said, many events had happened during the last
two years, and my father was by no means the only noted man in Peru to
disappear. So our talk travelled in a circle, leaving off at the
starting-point, and for sole effect it extinguished the gleam of hope
which the major's story had kindled.
In the evening, at José's suggestion, I went into the streets to pick
up any information concerning the governor's doings. Everything seemed
quiet; the sentries were at their posts as usual, while the soldiers
off duty wandered about the town.
They greeted me respectfully, raising their hands in salute and
standing at attention, as if I had been an officer of high degree.
Recognizing a sergeant who had been in the governor's room, I stopped
to ask a few questions. Greatly to my relief, I learned that, with the
exception of a few Spanish officers, the troops in the town were all
Indians from the mountains.
As the man seemed smart and intelligent, I told him how matters stood,
and that we depended entirely upon him and his comrades until the
coming of the English colonel.
"You can trust us, master," he replied, and indeed his talk made it
quite clear that the friend of Raymon Sorillo and the holder of the
Silver Key might rely on the Indians in Moquegua even against Miller
himself.
José, I think, felt rather relieved on hearing my news; while Santiago
laughed heartily, prophesying that, if the Spaniards were defeated, I
should in a few years be king, or at least president, of Peru.
"I had no idea," said he, "that you were so important a person. No
wonder Barejo wished to keep you shut up!"
That night we took it in turns to watch; but the governor attempted
nothing against us, and the next day we walked openly in the street
without molestation.
Colonel Miller had vanished into space, and for nearly a week we heard
nothing of him; then one morning an Indian scout rode wearily into the
town with the news that the Englishman was close at hand. Immediately
the people rushed out in hundreds to line the street, and to cheer the
returning warriors.
José stayed indoors with the major, but sent me out to get an early
word with our leader. Bright, alert, and cheery as ever, he rode at
the head of his troops, smiling and bowing to the inhabitants as they
greeted him with rousing cheers. Then came the soldiers--the cavalry
on dead-tired horses, the infantry on jaded mules--with a number of
prisoners in the midst.
The animals were tired enough; but the men! I can hardly describe
their condition. Their faces were haggard, their eyes heavy and
bloodshot; some were nearly asleep, others had scarcely strength to sit
upright. Very little grass had grown under their feet. As soon as
they were dismissed, the citizens pounced on them, taking them into the
houses, where food and drink were provided in abundance.
The governor had come out to meet the colonel, whom I expected to see
return with him; but at the last moment he turned aside, and with a
laughing exclamation went straight to his own quarters, whither I
followed him.
"Hullo, Crawford!" cried he. "So you didn't get La Hera?"
"No, sir; but we captured a major, and I wish to speak to you about
him."
"Won't it wait?" he asked, with a comical expression.
"I am afraid not, sir. The truth is, we've had a quarrel with the
governor, and--"
"You want to get in your version first! A very good plan. Well, fire
away, but don't make it long; I've a lot of things on hand."
By this time we had entered his room, and going straight to the heart
of the affair, I told my story in the fewest possible words. The
colonel listened with rather a grave face, and when I had finished he
said, "It's an awkward mess, especially just now. It's absolutely
necessary to keep friends with the governor, and I don't like this
tampering with the troops. But, of course, I won't have the prisoner
put in irons or treated differently from the rest. Bring him here now,
and I'll settle the matter at once."
"Yes, sir," said I, thankful to get off so lightly.
The colonel had already begun some fresh work when I returned with José
and the major, but he rose from his seat and saluted the Spaniard
courteously.
"I understand it is useless to ask for your parole, major," he said.
"Your mind is quite made up on the point?"
"Yes, sir," answered Santiago, smiling in his easy, graceful way. "An
opportunity to escape may not arise but if it does, I shall certainly
seize it."
"Quite right!" exclaimed the colonel; "but I fear you will be
disappointed. However, though guarding you rigidly, we shall put you
to as little inconvenience as possible. You will find half a dozen
companions in misfortune in the prison. Most of the captured rank and
file have joined the Patriots."
The major's lip curled scornfully, but he only said, "I am obliged to
you, colonel, for your kindness. Some day perhaps I may be able to
return it."
"Not in the same way, I hope," laughed Colonel Miller. "I have had a
taste of Spanish prison life already, major. But when the war is over
I trust we may meet again."
Then he sent for an officer and a file of soldiers, and Santiago turned
to bid us a cheery farewell.
"Good-bye," said he brightly; "I have had a pleasant time with you.--If
I do succeed in escaping, Crawford, I will inquire further into your
father's story.--Ah, here is my escort!" and with a salute to the
colonel and a nod to us, he took his place in front of the men, while
the officer received his chief's instructions.
"He's a plucky fellow. I should have liked to set him free," I said,
as we strolled back to our quarters.
"To do more mischief!" growled José. "I'm sorry for him, in a way, but
it's better for us that he should be under lock and key. And that
reminds me! How did Colonel Miller take the Silver Key business?"
"Very badly; called it tampering with the troops."
"So it was, but it saved our lives, all the same. I shall be rather
pleased when we leave this district; the governor won't regard either
of us too favourably."
"He can't hurt us now the colonel is here."
"No," replied José, with a curious smile "but we might meet with a
nasty accident. Perhaps you remember my remark, made two years ago,
that accidents are common in Peru. It's as true now as then."
As it chanced, José was shortly to have his wish; for although we did
not know it then, the colonel had decided to abandon Moquegua. Many of
the troops were down with the ague, the place was a difficult one to
defend, unless against a weak attack, and La Hera was already on the
march with a force far superior to ours. This, however, we did not
learn till two days later.