THE ROUTING OF THE ENEMY.
Boom!
The Spanish gunners had fired the cannon perched on the bluff, its
muzzle pointed directly for the doors of the old convent.
Hardly had we heard the report than there was a crash and the splinters
flew in every direction. The shot had struck the frame of the doors and
shattered it badly.
A cry of rage went up from the Cubans, and, rushing to the loopholes
left in the blocked-up windows, they sought to pick off the gunners
with their carbines. But the Spaniards prudently kept out of sight, so
this movement was useless.
"Two more shots like that, and the doors will come down," muttered
Señor Guerez, with a grave shake of his head. "I wish we had a cannon
to fire in return."
A consultation was held, and all of the women and children were told to
retire to an inner room of the convent, where the damage done by the
cannon might not reach them.
This had scarcely been accomplished when the Spaniards fired a second
shot. But their aim was poor, and the ball only plowed up the ground
fifty feet outside of the courtyard.
Señor, or rather Captain, Guerez, as I should now call him, collected
his men together, and a short but exciting debate took place, only a
few words of which were plain to me. Alano's father favored leaving the
convent by a rear passage-way leading to a woods and surprising the
enemy by coming up in their rear.
Just as a third shot from the cannon struck the roof of the convent and
tore off a corner of the stonework, it was agreed upon to carry out
this project. Four men were left to exhibit themselves occasionally, so
that the Spaniards might think the soldiers still there, and Alano's
father asked me to remain with them.
"I do not advise you to take part in the fighting," he said. "But if
you find it necessary to defend yourself, you'll find guns in plenty in
the dining-hall closet, with cartridges in one of the drawers."
In less than ten minutes the company of soldiers, fifty-six strong,
were on their way, leaving the convent as silently as shadows. The
moment the last of them had taken to the passage-way, the entrance
was closed and bolted, and I found myself left behind with the women
and children and the four guards, none of whom could speak a word of
English.
After firing the third shot the Spaniards paused, probably to hold
a council of war. To divert suspicion from the movements of Captain
Guerez and his men, the four guards and myself passed out in plain
sight of them several times. Of course we did not remain long, nor did
we show ourselves in the same place twice. Our appearance called forth
half a dozen shots from as many muskets, but we were too far off for
these to have any effect. One bullet did hit near where a guard had
shown himself, but its force was spent and it did no damage.
Nearly half an hour had passed, when suddenly we heard a yell and a
wild shouting, and all of the Spaniards dashed into view, running
hither and thither as though panic-stricken. Captain Guerez had
surprised them completely, and they thought it was a re-enforcement
for the old convent and not the soldiers from that place themselves.
A hundred shots rang out, and, using a field-glass, I saw that the
Spaniards were completely demoralized. They formed into a hollow square
once, but this was speedily broken up, and then off they rode and ran,
helter-skelter, down the bluff and across the river, some fording and
some swimming, for their very lives.
The engagement had lasted less than quarter of an hour when some of the
Cubans came riding toward the convent gates, bringing with them several
wounded men--some of their own party--and three of the Spaniards who
had been captured.
Captain Guerez had, in the meantime, followed the Spanish leader across
the stream. The pursuit was kept up for nearly half an hour, at the end
of which time the Spaniards were driven so far off it was likely they
would not dare to return for a long while, if at all.
When Alano's father came back it was found he had received a sword
thrust through the fleshy part of the leg. The wound was not a
dangerous one, but it was painful, and his wife and daughters did all
they could to ease his sufferings.
"I am sorry for your sake, Mark, that I am wounded," he remarked, as he
rested upon a cot. "I will have to keep quiet for a few days, and thus
our quest after your father will have to be delayed."
"You wouldn't dare to leave here just yet anyway, would you?" I asked,
much disappointed, yet feeling that it was no more than I could expect.
"Hardly, my boy. I do not expect those Spaniards to return; we have
given them far more than they expected. They would not attack us
without re-enforcements, and there are no other Spanish troops within a
good many miles."
Now that the old convent had been once attacked, it was decided to keep
a strict watch, day and night, upon the roof and through the grounds.
A detail of men was formed, instructions to keep a constant lookout
given, and then Captain Guerez passed over his command temporarily to
Lieutenant Porlando.
The remainder of the day passed quietly enough, I occupying the time
in repairing my clothing, which needed many a stitch. In this work
the elder of Alano's sisters helped me, Señora Guerez keeping by her
husband's side and having the younger sister to assist her.
I found Inez Guerez a most companionable girl. Her stock of English was
as limited as was my knowledge of Spanish, yet we managed to make each
other understand, laughing roundly over the mistakes we made. When I
mentioned Alano and told what great friends we were, tears stood in her
dark eyes, and she said she trusted he would soon reach the old convent
in safety. My father and she had also become great friends, and she
said she hoped he would escape from his Spanish captors ere they had a
chance to thrust him into a dungeon at Santiago.
Having had no sleep the night before, I retired early, and was soon
in the land of dreams, despite the many misgivings I had concerning
my father's welfare. Fervently I prayed that he might escape from the
Spaniards who held him, and that we might speedily be reunited.
When I awoke in the morning the sky was darkly overcast and it was
raining furiously. The downpour caused the river to rise, and the lower
end of the old convent was partly under water.
A fair breakfast was had, consisting of coffee, bread, and some fried
plantains, which to me tasted particularly fine, and then I went to
Captain Guerez, to find him much improved and in good spirits.
"We would not go off anyway in such a storm as this," he said, as he
sipped a bowl of coffee. "It will be fresh and cool after it is over,
and by that time I think I will be able to ride once more, and I think
my cousin will come to remain with my wife and girls."
The downpour up to noon was terrific, then the sun came out strongly,
and the hills and valleys were covered with a heavy mist as the water
evaporated. By sundown it became cooler, and the roof of the old
convent proved a most delightful lounging place.
We were all out there, watching the shadows as the sun set behind the
hills in the west, when one of the guards announced that two men were
approaching from a trail leading through the woods to the northwest. A
field-glass was at once procured, and Lieutenant Porlando took a long
look at them.
"A black and a boy," he announced in Spanish, and I leaped forward and
begged for the use of the glass for a minute. My request was readily
granted, and I waited for the two newcomers to reappear among the trees.
"They are Alano and Jorge!" I exclaimed a minute later.
"Alano!" cried my chum's sisters. "Are you certain?"
"Yes, it is Alano, and he carries his arm in a sling."
And down we rushed in a body and asked to be let out of the courtyard.
Inez was the first to emerge into the open, and off she rushed at full
speed, to find herself a minute later in Alano's arms, with Paula close
behind.