reasonable proposition. You have seen the prison at Porto Cabello; it is
on that little sandy island about five hundred yards from the town and
only about eighty miles from Curaçao. The prison guards were a lot of
shiftless half-breeds and would no doubt be drunk by ten o’clock of the
appointed night. Curaçao schooners were always coming and going—on the
whole, it seemed no difficult achievement, and it certainly is a
commendable act to get any one out of a Venezuelan prison, whether he
belongs there or not. I made a bargain with Rosenthal for five hundred
dollars, which he paid me on the spot. The next day we sailed for
Curaçao on the Red D.
“There was no difficulty about my part of the programme. I chartered one
of the chunky little tubs which you saw in Curaçao, engaged three
_Papiemento_-jabbering negroes and a cook and cleared for Porto Cabello,
giving it out that I was on a collecting cruise along the coast.
“It took me six days to slam that old tub against the trade to Porto
Cabello, about eighty miles in a straight line; weather just as it is
now—as it always is down there—the wind dead ahead and blowing the top
off the water, and the sky bright and clear and blue. Arrived, I
anchored near the mouth of the little inlet, and, after being duly
inspected, went ashore to see if I could gather any information; but
there was nothing to be learned.
“For a week I hung about that hot, wretched hole; then the Dutch mail
steamer arrived from La Guayra, and on going aboard to greet some old
acquaintances the first man I met was Isidore Rosenthal.
“The Jew’s Satanic face was more malignant than ever; the glare in his
green eyes put one in mind of a jaguar; I saw at once that something had
gone wrong.
“‘Ah, the ——!’ he snarled, when we were alone. ‘You were right, Leyden!
The pigs! The robbers! The vile liars!’ His rage was positively
alarming. His black eyebrows worked up and down, and his yellow teeth
gnawed at the corner of his black mustache.
“‘They got your gems?’ I asked.
“‘Yes, and they warned me to leave on the next steamer; they would have
thrown me into prison but that they feared to have the story get out and
be obliged to divide——’ He broke off suddenly from his tirade and
surprised me by grinning with amusement. ‘I should like to see their
faces a few days later!’
“‘Whose faces?’ I asked, in surprise.
“‘Trocas and that ——!’ He really had a very poor opinion of ‘La
Fouchère.’
“‘Why?’ I asked, although I had my suspicions.
“‘Oh, never mind. There are other things to think of. Bribery has
failed; there is left only force.’ He looked at me inquiringly.
“‘Force!’ said I, for at that time a Jew and a fight were not associated
in my mind.
“‘_Tiens!_’ said he, ‘we cannot return and leave the little Jacob in
that cesspool! Think of his lung, my dear Doctor; besides, it would be
necessary to refund the money subscribed by our friends in Curaçao.’
“‘Did you give them receipts?’ I asked, curious to get at the odd
principles of the man. He looked at me reproachfully.
“‘There, there, Leyden! Did you ever hear of Isidore Rosenthal going
back upon his word?’
“‘I apologize. What is the next move?’
“Rosenthal shrugged. ‘They are not much to be feared, these nigger
guards at the prison.’ He glanced at me furtively. ‘Suppose we take a
boat to-night and go over and get little Jacob?’
“I did not at once reply. To tell the truth, Doctor, I was too much
surprised at the suggestion to reply. I knew that Rosenthal possessed
the stubborn courage peculiar to his race; but this policy of cold,
aggressive daring seemed incompatible with the Hebrew. He watched me
narrowly.
“‘I am not a fighter, my dear friend,’ said he, thrusting out his hands.
‘I am a man of affairs, a financier, a diplomat, but there are times
when all of these things fail. No doubt I seem to you like a fool’ (he
seemed positively ashamed of himself—as ashamed as might another man, a
Gentile, of a display of cowardice), ‘but what would you have? They will
not keep their faith; to offer more bribes would be to throw good money
away after bad.’ He shrugged, chewed at the end of a cigar, glanced
about him furtively, then took to gnawing his nails, while I sat and
considered the proposition.
“To tell the truth, Doctor, it was not at all attractive. To be sure,
the guards were a scrubby lot, but there were plenty of them, and the
prisoners were locked up and had no knowledge of any plan for escape.
Moreover, we did not know in what part of the prison they were confined,
nor had we any plan of the inside of the place.
“‘You do not object to making an attempt, Leyden?’ asked Rosenthal, who
had been watching me narrowly.
“‘Not if I were able to see how it could be done,’ I answered, slowly,
for, you see, Doctor, he had engaged my services for a particular piece
of work and I was professionally bound. If it had been my custom to
abandon a project because it was dangerous I must long ago have sought
another profession. ‘Would it not be much better to wait until we can
try to bribe the guards or establish some communication with the
prisoners?’ said I.
“‘No,’ he answered. ‘It must be done to-night, because Trocas knows with
whom he has to deal, and unless I am mistaken there will come an order
to-morrow to remove little Jacob, probably to Caracas, and you know he
does very badly in the cold, damp air of the mountains; also, the change
of altitude is apt to bring out another attack of the fever.’
“‘Have you thought of any definite plan?’ I asked, irritably. He grinned
at me like a baboon.
“‘That is for you, my dear Doctor,’ said he. ‘You have had more
experience in such matters.’
“‘That is all very well,’ said I, ‘but you seem to forget that I am
engaged by you to carry out _your_ orders. Now, go ahead and issue
them.’
“His grin left him at this and he began to scowl and reach for the
overhang of his mustache with his big yellow teeth. Finally he said: ‘I
engaged you, as you say, Doctor, to carry out my orders, but I will do
better. One cannot be avaricious when the life of one’s brother is
concerned. If you will get the little Jacob out of that hole I will pay
you three times what you have received.’
“‘How about the others?’ I asked.
“‘Oh, the devil take the others! If their friends want them let them
come after them. I will refund their money.’
“‘Very well,’ said I. ‘And now I will go ashore, as I want to think this
thing out alone.’
“Rosenthal grinned his sardonic grin, and I left him and, passing
through the custom house, strolled on across the square, past the
monument to the American soldiers and over into the park opposite the
baths, where I sat on a bench and tried to think against the infernal
clatter of the ‘_Q’est ce qu’il dit?_’ birds.
“For about an hour I sat there, and I can assure you, Doctor, that my
brain was not idle. There were several very potent reasons for my
wishing to carry through the task which I had undertaken. In the first
place I needed the money very much. Again, there was an old score to
settle with Trocas, but I think that more than all it was a matter of
professional pride. It was easy to see that Rosenthal was confident that
I could carry the thing through, yet try as I did I was obliged to
dismiss each plan as impracticable. If word could be got to the
prisoners of our co-operation it would have been so much easier, but I
was afraid to bribe any of the guards, as there was danger that he would
pocket the money and then betray us.
“I was determined that there must be no bloodshed. I had no doubt that
Jacob _had_ been conspiring against the Venezuelan government and had
been betrayed by ‘La Fouchère.’ I am averse to killing people, Doctor;
moreover, I am a Christian and believe in God, and I try to keep the ten
commandments. In spite of the hazardous character of many of my
expeditions you would be surprised to learn how very few men I have been
obliged to kill or have killed, and the memory of these unfortunate
affairs is attended with regret, but no remorse.
“While I was vexedly working at this problem I heard the blare of a
discordant bugle and a clatter on the pavement of the square, and,
looking over my shoulder, saw a company of dusty soldiers stacking their
arms in front of the café. They appeared to be mostly Venezuelans. They
promptly swarmed into the café, and I arose and strolled over in that
direction. The lieutenant in command was a short, fat young fellow, and
as I drew near he said a few words to his sergeant and then left his
company and walked over toward the café of the bathhouse. I followed him
indolently, and as he entered the building I took a chair on the
verandah and called for spirits and cigars. As I was lighting one of the
latter my lieutenant came out, glanced at me inquiringly, then seated
himself at a table. A moment later some tourists from the Dutch ship,
killing time as best they might, strolled up, and to these I bowed
casually as to acquaintances of the voyage. They did not know me, of
course, but they returned my bow, called for beer, drank it and strolled
on. As they were leaving I remarked in English to one of them,
apparently an American:
“‘The ship does not sail until night, does she?’
“‘Not until one o’clock,’ he replied, agreeably, no doubt taking me for
a passenger from Porto Cabello.
“For awhile we sat in silence; then my lieutenant, who evidently found
himself greatly bored, turned to me and said, in fair English:
“‘You are a tourist, sir?’
“‘Yes,’ said I, ‘and much regretting that this is the last which I shall
see of Venezuela for many months.’ There promised to be some truth in
the last part of this statement, Doctor.
“‘You enjoy Venezuela?’ inquired the officer, evidently pleased.
“‘I have conceived a great admiration for the people and the country,’
said I.
“We talked for some time of the beauties of Caracas, he apparently
enjoying the unaccustomed exercise of his English. I extolled the
country, the people, their traditions, their bravery, likening their
history to that of the United States, Bolivar to George Washington. He
expanded like a flower in the sunshine. Presently I asked the honor of
drinking a bottle of champagne with him, to which he agreed, remarking
that Americans were to him the most delightful of all foreigners. Before
long I asked him if his military duties confined him to Porto Cabello.
He sighed deeply.
“‘Ah, my friend, it is very sad. No, I have simply come down with my
_commando_, which you see across the square. I return to-morrow, leaving
the troop in the fortress yonder, as the present garrison was considered
insufficient to guard the desperate political prisoners confined there.’
“It struck me that this was rather a tribute to the respect entertained
for Rosenthal by Trocas.
“‘Indeed?’ said I, somewhat idly.
“He sighed. ‘It is a tedious journey, but I requested General Trocas to
commit the care of the men to me, as I expected to find here a
friend’—he smirked at me—‘a lady in whom I am interested.’
“I laughed indulgently. ‘You young officers are roving blades,’ said I.
‘One cannot blame the ladies, however.’
“He brightened, then sighed again. ‘It is very sad,’ said he. ‘I learn
from the keeper of the hotel that she has sailed for Curaçao on the
steamer before this. She was very beautiful, a Portuguese.’ He twirled
his thin mustache.
“‘Permit me to offer my sympathy,’ said I. ‘But, of course, there is
still wine left, if the lady has gone,’ and I ordered another bottle of
champagne.
“Before the bottle was finished, Doctor, he loved me as a brother. I
suggested that we go aboard the Dutch ship and have an American
cocktail. It was a little dangerous, but I wished to clinch his
confidence in me. He readily agreed and we strolled across the square
together. On the way we passed his command, which was what I wished. The
men were still drinking, but the sergeant was outside the café and
saluted as we passed.
“‘A good fellow—he knows my errand,’ observed the lieutenant, referring
to the sergeant, and added that there was no hurry to cross to the
fortress; it was a place stiflingly hot, and his men were in need of
rest and a little refreshment.
“‘You are, of course, acquainted with the officers of the garrison?’
said I.
“‘No; there is only the _commandante_, a rough old fellow’—he shrugged
as if to signify that the man was scarcely of his own social caste.
‘There were many promotions from the ranks after the revolution,’ he
added.
“This, as you can guess, Doctor, was valuable information. I changed the
subject and we boarded the ship. I caught a glimpse of Rosenthal as we
went up the ladder. His eye glinted as it met mine; then he turned his
back until we had gone below.
“It was then three o’clock. For two hours I poured cocktails into my
officer, and by five he was very drunk, so drunk that I was able to
leave him long enough to tell Rosenthal to meet me by the fountain in
the park in an hour. Then I returned to my officer, who was nodding over
another glass of spirits. I got him upon his feet and managed to return
with him to the hotel without being interrupted. There I poured into him
another bottle of champagne, after which he quietly subsided into
inertia, when, with the aid of the proprietor, whose disapproval I
silenced with a fee which he put down to drunken generosity, we
undressed and put him to bed.
“The next step was the crucial one. I quickly took off my clothes and
put on those of the lieutenant. Then I crossed the square to where the
_commando_ was still drinking. I found the sergeant in the dirty little
café, himself somewhat intoxicated. At sight of me he sprang to his feet
with an oath.
“‘Silence!’ said I, in Spanish. ‘Your lieutenant has persuaded me to
take his place for a few hours.’
“‘Where is he?’ demanded the sergeant, suspiciously.
“I gave him a drunken leer and slapped him lightly on the shoulder.
“‘Can you not guess?’ I asked, meaningly.
“‘But it cannot be,’ growled the man. ‘And who are you? It is as much as
his commission is worth!’
“‘It would be worth more than his commission was worth if he were to
accompany his command in his present condition,’ I snapped. ‘You do not
seem to understand that I am doing him a favor at a personal risk; also,
he told me to give you this and to tell you to keep your mouth shut,’
And I slipped some gold into his hand. ‘It is only necessary for me to
cross to the fort, deliver the command to the _commandante_ and return.
Your lieutenant is not known to any one there.’
“The fellow wavered, grumbled, slid the money into his pocket, eyed me
suspiciously; but I laughed and told him that a good sergeant must stand
by his lieutenant; then, rising, I told him to get his men together and
I would return directly to get them to the fort. Although by no means
satisfied, he made no protest, not knowing just what course to take. I
left him and walked around the far side of the park to where Rosenthal
was waiting.
“He laughed softly as I joined him, and his yellow teeth gleamed in the
dusk. I simply told him to have the boat lying off the sea-wall of the
prison until he heard from me, and then returned to the _commando_,
which was drawn up in a somewhat vacillating formation. The men no doubt
took me to be an officer of the garrison to which they were committed,
but the sergeant was very ill at ease.
“I put the column into motion and marched them down to the water, where
I requisitioned the nearest boats at hand and we crossed to the island.
At the gate of the fortress we halted until the arrival of the officer
of the guard, to whom I presented the papers which were in the pocket of
the lieutenant’s blouse.
“The officer was a dangerous-looking old fellow, apparently a thorough
soldier, and, while polite, I could see that he was somewhat disgusted
at my condition.
“‘At what time did you arrive in Porto Cabello?’ he inquired, a trifle
coldly.
“‘An hour ago—perhaps two,’ I answered. ‘There seemed no great hurry; it
was very hot and my men were in need of refreshments. Also, I had some
messages from my uncle, his Excellency the President, for some friends
upon the _Hollandez_.’
“His manner changed a trifle. He gave a few orders to the sergeant, who
marched off his unsteady company, with a backward glance in my
direction, which I affected not to see.
“‘Will you come up to the headquarters?’ he said. I thanked him and we
strolled off together.
“Before we had reached headquarters I had restored his good nature, told
him some good stories, made him laugh heartily and evidently convinced
him that I was a careless good fellow and not to be taken too seriously.
I declined any refreshment, saying that I had been entertained aboard
the ship, and after a rather dull evening I begged leave to retire.
“As soon as he was gone I slipped out into the enclosure. It was a
starry night, still, but with no moon. I lit a cigar and walked
leisurely toward the casemates fronting the sea. At the end of fifty
yards I came upon a sentry sleeping peacefully against the wall. Walking
to him, I shook him roughly by the shoulder. He awoke with a start;
then, seeing an officer before him, scrambled to his feet and saluted.
At the same moment there came from one of the casemates a fit of violent
but muffled coughing.
“‘Is this the sort of watch which is kept in the prison?’ I demanded,
roughly. ‘His Excellency, my uncle, would be pleased to hear of it.’
“The man was badly frightened. He stammered something about not being
asleep; then, as I peered into his face, I recognized him as one of the
men of my command.
“‘Ah, my friend,’ said I, in an altered tone, ‘you are one of those who
arrived to-day?’
“‘Yes, _Señor Capitan_,’ he answered.
“‘But that is different,’ said I, kindly. ‘How is it that you are on
duty? There has been some mistake. I gave orders that you were to have a
night’s sleep. There has been a mistake, but never mind, sleep here, if
you like; God knows you have reason to be tired, and that there are
three times men enough to guard a handful of miserables.’
“‘Thank you, _Señor Capitan_,’ he answered; and as he spoke, the violent
coughing broke out again from some dark recess.
“‘There is a poor wretch who seems very ill,’ said I, conversationally.
‘Is it one of the garrison?’
“‘It must be one of the political prisoners, _Señor Capitan_,’ replied
the soldier. ‘They are all confined in the casemates yonder.’
“‘Poor wretch!’ said I, and, nodding to the soldier, strolled on toward
the ramparts. Before I had gone far I was halted by another sentry. I
peered at him through the murk.
“‘Are you one of the new men?’ I demanded.
“‘No, _Señor Capitan_,’ he answered, saluting.
“‘The lazy rascals!’ said I, tersely. ‘I gave orders that they were to
go on duty immediately as a reward for abusing my good nature and
getting drunk. Are they in the _cuartel_ with you?’
“‘No, _Señor Capitan_; they are in the _cuartel_ yonder at the angle of
the wall.’
“‘_Bueno!_ I will soon break up their sweet dreams, the drunken
vagabonds. Who is your sergeant?’ He told me the man’s name.
“‘And when are you to be relieved?’
“‘At midnight,’ said he.
“‘Very well. You may return to your quarters, and if your sergeant is
awake tell him that I have put one of my men in your place. Go!’
“‘_Si, Señor._’ He saluted and slouched away.
“I proceeded, and in a few minutes had relieved two more of the regular
garrison and bid one of the new men sleep at his post.
“It was then ten o’clock; there were two hours ahead of me. I made my
way to the sea-wall and, reaching below the rampart with one arm, struck
a match, extinguished it, struck another and extinguished that. A moment
later I heard the soft grinding of oars and the boat glided out of the
darkness. Rosenthal’s great frame hove itself up over the rampart, then
dropped into the shadow under the wall, and I heard his discordant laugh
stifled to a hissing gurgle. He carried a pick-axe.
“‘_Diable!_’ said he. ‘I heard you relieve the sentries! I was close
under the wall. It was funny! Have you found where they have put little
Jacob?’
“‘Yes,’ I answered. ‘Follow me.’
“I led him along the angle of the wall until we came to the casemates
where the sentry had said that the prisoners were confined, and then, as
we paused before the first of these, the utter stillness was again
broken by a paroxysm of coughing; and this time, although no less
violent than before, it struck me that there was in it an accent of
exhaustion—an extreme exhaustion as of muscles too fatigued to respond
even to a reflex.
“‘_Sacré!_’ growled Rosenthal, and gripped my arm. ‘Do you hear that? It
is the little Jacob.’ He flew to the door of the casemate; the port on
the other side opened on the sea, and was, of course, heavily barred.
Rosenthal smote the heavy door several times with the ball of his hand.
“‘Jacob!’ he called, softly. ‘Jacob, Jacob, my dear little Jacob!’ He
leaped back and raised his pick; it seemed as if the sounds of his sick
brother’s distress had robbed him of his senses.
“I seized the pick, and he whirled on me with a snarl. Indeed, Doctor,
the Jew was like a tigress who hears the wail of a captured cub.
“‘Idiot!’ I whispered, ‘do you want to rouse the garrison?’
“‘Listen!’ said he, and raised his hand suddenly. I listened, and in a
lull of the surf there reached our ears a series of pathetic sounds. You
know the sound, Doctor; the feeble strangling of a pulmonary patient
when too weak to cough, something between a cough and a rattle—and then
it suddenly ceased and there came to our ears, in a voice as thin as a
wafer’s edge: ‘_Isidore!_’
“And then Rosenthal went mad. He knew, we both knew, that Jacob was
dying; there was no mistaking that. It would be a matter of at least two
hours’ hard work to liberate him without noise, and we both felt that by
that time he would be already liberated; and Rosenthal, the Jew, whose
habit and training and every instinct was that of weighing cost and
gain, decided that he could not afford to wait, garrison or no garrison.
Apparently life held nothing which could compensate him for the
privilege of holding his crippled brother in his powerful arms while the
struggling soul was fighting its way to the God of his fathers. Before I
could interfere—and, indeed, I did not try very hard to interfere,
Doctor, for was I not paid to carry out the man’s orders?—he had raised
the pick and assailed the heavy door with a fury that filled the silent
fortress with thundering reverberations.
“Lights began to flash out in the barracks; at a distance a sentry fired
his piece for an alarm. I heard shouts and cries and orders, and through
it all Rosenthal, the Jew, stood and hewed away at the door, till all at
once, even as I saw a squad of men running toward us, it fell away, and
Rosenthal, throwing aside his pick, leaped into the casemate, and from
the blackness within I heard a fierce sob as he gathered his dying
brother to his breast.
“For me there was no time for sentiment. As the first group of soldiers
drew near there arose from the landward side a strident blast. I
recognized the whistle of the Dutch steamer, which was going out. In
sight of the soldiers I sprang to the open door of the casemate, peered
within, then rushed to meet them.
“‘Some prisoners have escaped!’ I howled. ‘See, the door of the casemate
has been torn away! Did you not hear the noise, sluggards? Look!’ I
pointed toward the town, where, above the farther wall, we could see the
masthead light of the steamer. ‘They have fled to the _Hollandez_!’
“The cry was taken up: ‘They have fled to the _Hollandez!_’ and the
soldiers, with a glance at the dark entrance of the casemate, turned and
made off toward the main gate. On the way they met the _commandante_,
who, hearing their cries, rushed to the jetty and bawled at the steamer
to stop.
“The place was deserted again and I softly entered the dungeon. I could
see nothing in the gloom, but from the shadow I heard a deep, choking
voice say: ‘_Jacob! Jacob! Ach, mein lieber Jacob! Mein kleiner, lieber
Jacob!_’
“‘_Isidore—mein bruder—Isidore!_’ came the thin answer, and then there
was a gurgle, a strangling cough, a sigh as of a soul exhausted, a body
spent with vain struggling, and yet a sigh filled with promise of an
infinite peace. I heard a rustling, such a sound as comes from a tired
child as its head falls back upon its mother’s breast. There was the
sound of a multitude of kisses, a choked sob—then silence, which endured
for many minutes.
“‘Come, my friend,’ I said, softly. ‘We must go, if you wish to take
Jacob away.’