WE INVESTIGATE THE AZOTEA.
Hildegarde gave a cry of joy at sight of me, advanced a step, holding
out her arms, and springing past Robbins, I snatched her to my heart.
Bless her, she did not shrink back from me in the least, and yet I am
sure I must have presented a far from fastidious appearance at that
moment, not having been given an opportunity to tidy myself up after my
immersion in the sea.
Perhaps I looked a little heroic--perhaps she remembered that all had
been done in her cause, and this glorified me in her eyes.
It was just as well.
Surely, we had little time to think of these things, when freedom must
be our first aim.
Robbins appeared to look at it in a different light; I imagined he felt
sorry to see so fair a creature in the arms of so disreputable a wretch
as I must have appeared.
At any rate, he came in and locked the door from the inside.
“Ah! madam, have pity on him, and give him half a chance to wash up, to
brush his hair and look like himself. Twenty-four hours in a dungeon
after that swim in the sea--do you wonder he appears like a tramp?” he
said.
Then I grew ashamed myself, and realized how very tough my appearance
must be.
But Hildegarde felt no repugnance, only sweet, womanly pity.
“My poor Morgan--and all for me--oh, how I love you! Never mind, there
is a long future for me to prove it. Come, here are water, soap and
a towel, and here my own brushes. I know you’ll feel better for Mr.
Robbins’ suggestion.”
“Perhaps it may take some of the fierceness out of me, but I reckon
I’ll make a good enough fighter, even as a gentleman,” I remarked,
grimly.
Somehow, when I saw Robbins nodding eagerly at my words, a dim
suspicion floated into my mind that perhaps he had a reason back of
this desire to make me presentable; but it was so intangible, I failed
to grasp it.
I believe that was really the most satisfactory toilet I ever made, for
she stood there, holding the towel, and then with her own hands gave me
the brushes, while Robbins dusted my clothes with a little whisk broom.
Five minutes completed the metamorphosis, and I felt like a new man.
“Now,” I said, “let me greet you as a gentleman, and not as a tramp.”
She willingly allowed me to infold her, and held up her pretty mouth
to receive my warm kisses, for two years is a long time in which to do
penance for one’s sins.
All of which must have been highly edifying to bachelor Robbins; I
remembered him at length, and closed the little seance.
The twinkle in his gray eyes may not have signified much, but I
imagined he was more than a little amused.
“Now that ceremony is over, I’m ready to carry out any other
suggestions of yours, old fellow. They’re all good, every one of them.
So, kindly give your orders.”
I saw Hildegarde regard me with some surprise, as though she thought
I should be the one to assume charge; you see, her ideas had jumped
around to the other extreme, and she could not now conceive of my
failing in any undertaking, however difficult.
“You see, my dear, Robbins is engineering this affair--turn about
is fair play. Besides, while I’ve been cooling my heels in that
blessed dungeon and juggling with the puzzling _menu_ of _frijoles_,
_tortillas_ and water, he has used his time to advantage, and allied us
with the revolutionary party, so that we are no longer friendless in an
enemy’s country--perhaps to-morrow we may even be touching elbows with
the new president himself--who knows?”
Plainly, I hardly believe Hildegarde understood one-half that I said,
but her confidence in me was sublime, and she nodded and smiled as
though it were revealed to her as plain as the largest bookprint.
Robbins went to the door and unlocked it.
I supposed we were about to make our exit from the casa in an orderly
way, reaching the street and proceeding to some quarters already
arranged for in this comprehensive scheme of the mate, whence we of
the male sex could sally out when the alarm bells gave the signal that
every revolutionist should be on the street.
It was not to be quite so easy.
Fortune had not grown weary of buffeting her votaries, and we were yet
to experience the joy of winning what we secured.
When I heard the racket from below, I fancied the uprising had burst
into a flame prematurely, and that the house of the alcalde was fated
to bear its first fruits.
It was not so.
Robbins jumped at another conclusion, and, as it turned out, his hazard
was the true one.
My escape had become known through some mischance--Heaven alone knows
how; perhaps some fellow venturing below, with a little scheme of his
own on tap, that concerned the wine bin of the mayor, had heard the
agonizing groans of Cerberus, and, being more valiant than most of his
kind, had investigated, with the result of discovery.
That was the most reasonable supposition.
However, men care little about cause when the effect is what they have
to battle with.
And those cries told Robbins the enemy must speedily be at our door.
Already they swarmed up the stairs, and our escape in that quarter
seemed cut off.
Hildegarde had turned very pale, but she was a brave little woman, and
possessed an abiding faith in two men.
“We must run for it--this way, quick. There is one road out, only one.”
Robbins spoke even while in motion, for time when measured by
heartbeats can not be wasted in long explanations.
My hand clutched her arm, and together we hurried in the wake of our
big friend, the mate.
I had not the faintest notion regarding the immediate plans of Robbins,
until we came to a short flight of steps leading aloft.
Here he stopped.
Then I saw where the desperate condition of affairs had hurried him.
To the _azotea_!
These stairs led to the flat roof, where, in common with houses in
sub-tropical countries, the inmates have arranged things for comfort
during many an evening when the breeze enjoyed here cools the heated
cheek.
“Up with you, Morgan,” he said.
I did not waste breath in asking questions--Robbins ran the game, and
mine must be the duty of blind, unswerving obedience.
Besides, the shouts were so close to us, I expected at any instant to
see those who gave utterance to them.
So I assisted Hildegarde up.
As we emerged and gained the roof, I found the stars shining overhead.
It was a grand night for a revolution, the air so clear that all sounds
must carry near and far.
Bending down, I discovered that the opening in the roof through which
we had come could be closed in time of need by a couple of wooden doors.
Robbins, upon gaining the _azotea_, bent down and quietly dropped
these; it would hardly have mattered if he had banged them, since the
noise below was so very deafening--they had found the nest empty, the
bird flown.
Of course, search would follow--every nook and corner of the big _casa_
coming in for the closest investigation.
And some bright mind, groping for ideas, would think of the roof, when
it must speedily be discovered where we were at bay.
What then?
The first thing to be done, of course, was to secure the trap by some
means so that it could not be opened from below.
While Robbins stood upon it they might heave and batter all they
pleased, without budging such a Colossus; but Robbins could not occupy
all his time in making a statue of himself; besides, he would be needed
elsewhere, and perchance, bullets might come soaring up through that
trap that would make his tenure of office very uncertain.
I had an idea.
My eye in roving about the _azotea_ had already lighted upon some
chairs and settees gathered under a section near by that seemed to be
protected by a temporary awning.
These I eagerly pounced upon, to discover to my great joy, they were
for the most part of iron, painted to resist the weather.
And Robbins, seeing me stagger under the weight of the largest settee I
could find, sprang to assist in looting the pile.
By the time we had deposited a few of those articles of garden
furniture upon the trap, it must needs be a modern Samson who could
lift it from below.
The wind seemed blowing from a favorable quarter so far as our cause
was concerned.
Looking back after the lapse of time, when the mad excitement no longer
sends the hot blood leaping like molten lava through the veins, and
when one can weigh things calmly and dispassionately, I am still of the
positive conviction that we made no mistakes, and in accepting chances
as they came were wisely guided in our selection.
They had found us out.
Already eager hands were hammering at the double trap, and a dozen
voices united in declaring their ideas regarding the why and wherefore
of such strange obstinacy on the part of the doors.
I heard the alcalde’s resonant voice--no danger of mistaking it even
among two score--the same old stock of favorite Spanish swear words
that had done such noble duty in the gardens at the time we had held
the roof of the toolhouse.
Where would they attack us, now that this avenue of escape was cut
off? Was there another trap which we had failed to notice, or might
we expect them to climb over the raised parapet that ran around the
_azotea_?
I was trying to clear my mind of this puzzling question when a shriek
from Hildegarde smote upon my hearing, and galvanized me into action.