WON AT LAST.
Of course, they pursued us--it was destined that our escape from
Bolivar should be marked by one more dramatic scene, as though to round
out the whole tragic business.
Daylight was just beginning to break when we clattered past the last
scattering adobe huts, and struck out upon the winding road that led in
the direction of Jalapa, climbing mountains, crossing wild valleys and
presenting many dangerous features to a company without a guide.
Once free from the town and its noises, we experienced a remarkable
sense of relief; and could we have been assured that no pursuit would
be inaugurated, we might have enjoyed the journey very much.
That sunrise as seen from the side of the mountain was equal to any I
ever witnessed even in Italy.
Robbins had even thought of food; he apologized because he had been
unable to secure a pack horse on such short notice and load him down
with all the paraphernalia of a camping outfit, but we united in
declaring what he had done was really astonishing; given time, I think
he would have bagged all the dainties in Bolivar.
We ate as we rode, for our enemies were too near at hand and our horses
too fresh to think of making so early a halt.
The invigorating air gave us high spirits, and we could even converse
about the wreck and the probable fate of Gustavus and Diana, as well
as the men, without shuddering.
Still, I feared it was a theme that would cast more or less of a shadow
athwart our happiness in the future, for it was a bitter thing to think
of that bright society woman, one of the most charming of her sex, thus
taken away so suddenly and cruelly.
Long before noon, Robbins secretly informed me we were being pursued.
Somehow, I was not much surprised--nothing appeared to strike me as
singular nowadays. I understood that fate meant to make one more grand
bluff at snatching happiness from my arms, and, if defeated this time,
would be apt to give up in disgust.
All I did was to grimly set my teeth together and look down the wild
mountain in the quarter whence we had come.
Robbins presently pointed out our pursuers.
They were a grand squad, and unless my eyesight deceived me old Gen.
Toreado was at the head.
Strange, how vindictive the old chap was; instead of hunting Salvador,
who had been president before the _coup_, and must be chasing
hot-footed for the border at this hour, here he was, speeding after me,
the man who laid down the reins of government only too willingly when
news came that Toreado the Magnificent had not been killed after all,
only stunned.
“How many?” asked Robbins.
“Not far from a dozen, all told.”
“Pretty big odds, if they catch us. We’ve got a good start--let ’em
come,” said he.
We joined the others, who were ahead.
The trail had reached its highest point, and now a descent lay before
us.
Of course, we could make quicker time, but it was often dangerous
to hasten, for the narrow mule path led along the face of precipices
where, hundreds of feet below, large trees looked for all the world
like bushes, and a brawling stream seemed no larger than a silver
ribbon.
Here we moved slowly and sedately; I confess my heart was almost in my
throat when I reflected that a single stumble would precipitate horse
and rider over the brink into eternity.
Robbins was berating himself for a fool; he wanted to know what was the
use in being secretary of war unless one could command all the military
supplies in the republic.
At first, I could not understand what ailed the fellow, until he
pointed out a place where, as he said, a little dynamite cartridge
would bring the narrow path into chaotic ruin after we had passed in
safety, and thus effectually cut off pursuit.
Yes, it was a great pity he had not thought to requisition the whole
outfit of the army.
Still, we managed to get on.
The trouble was, those fellows in our rear, from some cause or other,
got on better; perhaps it came from their not having any women folks
along, or because they were more accustomed to such mountain travel,
for a chase after a fleeing ex-president is an event of frequent
occurrence.
At any rate, our lead was slowly, but surely, being cut down, and it
became an open question whether we would gain a safe refuge over the
border at Jalapa or be forced to turn at bay.
I sincerely hoped the former might come to pass, though grimly
determined that, should it be war, we would give a good account of
ourselves as American citizens.
Hildegarde bore the rough ride admirably--not a whimper did I hear,
though it must have been a cruel experience, especially toward the end,
when our pace was fast and furious.
Something of this was due to her natural grit; but the fact that she
had always been a lover of horseback exercise counted for considerable.
As for the girl, nothing could tire her; her big black eyes glowed with
excitement, and she sat her reeking horse like a little centaur.
None of us was positive how much farther we had to go--it might be
leagues to the border. So much for not having a guide; but, truth
to tell, Robbins had not been able to discover a single chap in all
Bolivar whom he thought he could trust.
We only knew that the fellows in our rear were getting too close for
comfort, and that the chances for a ruction seemed good.
I saw there were but nine now--the rest had dropped out, and with them,
the white-headed old reprobate who claimed the ties of kindred with my
Hildegarde.
I am not naturally a bloodthirsty man, but I fervently hoped on this
occasion that his horse had carried him over where the gulch was
deepest, so that he would never trouble us more.
Subsequent events have led me to believe that such a doleful tragedy
actually occurred, for the old sinner disappeared from the face of the
earth, and never again sought to acquire a claim to any of my wealth.
I am sure that this could only have been brought about by his sudden
demise; for, as Hildegarde declared, he was a man who would never give
up a cherished object while breath remained.
As I rode beside Robbins I ventured to ask my ex-secretary of war how
best we could defeat our pursuers, who seemed bent on bringing matters
to a crisis.
Robbins was quick to answer; he had been looking ahead, it seemed.
“Look below--what d’ye see, governor?”
“Well, there’s a river of some sort in the valley--yes, and a bridge
over it.”
“We’ll get there, all right.”
“That’s true, but beyond is a level stretch where they can overhaul us.”
“Wait. Once we cross, the ladies will ride on.”
“Ah! then we stop.”
“Thermopylæ again, Morgan. We’ll hold the bridge, as Leonidas and his
Spartans held the pass. I reckon this tumultuous nation will have the
novelty of four presidents in twenty-four hours.”
“Four?”
“I’ve made up my mind to shoot Toreado the first thing. He deserves
it, the old fool! Some men never know which side of their bread is
buttered. Well, here we are.”
The bridge was before us, and as we wearily galloped over, I hastily
called to Hildegarde, telling her to keep straight on for a mile or so,
and that we would surely come up.
She gave me one look over her shoulder, so full of love and misery that
it brought a lump into my throat; but she knew what obedience meant,
and rode straight on.
“Now,” cried Robbins, suddenly, as our horses cleared the planking.
So we drew the beasts upon their very haunches and sprang to the
ground, and, sheltered behind their weary carcasses, faced about.
It was indeed time, for the squad of rough riders had just started to
cross--indeed, the crash of horses’ hoofs upon the bridge marked our
turning at bay.
We opened fire instantly--the old battle spirit surged over me, and
human life was held in cheap account. Why should I care when these men
hunted us like wild beasts, determined to slay us, or, worse still,
imprison us in their filthy dungeons on a diet of atrocities?
The rattle of firearms was merry enough, and as both of us were
extraordinarily good shots, we created quite a little havoc among them.
Horses leaped and burst over the rail, carrying their riders in some
cases with them--men shrieked and swore and plunged about, as though
crazed with fear; taken in all, it was a dreadful affair, which I
sincerely trust I may never see the like of again.
Robbins had potted the old general the first thing, just as he
promised--at least, he shot his horse, and that beast promptly tumbled
over the rail, so that the last I saw of Toreado he was floating down
stream, screaming for help.
It seems he did not drown, but lived to rule the little republic just
seven months, when he was shot from ambush, and a new president took
up the reins where he dropped them; but, of course, he found an empty
treasury--they always do.
When we saw that the pursuit had been effectually brought to a sudden
stop, we once more flung ourselves in the saddle, gave a cowboy whoop,
and were off down the road.
So far as I can remember, I do not think we actually killed any of
the Toreado _possé_, granting that those in the river got out safe
and sound, but their ardor was effectually cooled, and they hunted
ex-presidents no more that day.
A mile on we overtook our companions, and Hildegarde’s eyes sparkled
with tears of joy when I drew alongside.
Jalapa proved to be near at hand; indeed, although we had not
suspected it at the time, the river was really the border of the
territory.
At Jalapa we lost all our fears.
Here even ex-presidents could breathe in peace.
We engaged passage on the first steamer soon to start for New York.
I would not feel entirely easy until I had shaken the republican dust
of these Central American countries from my feet--they were much too
hot for me.
At Jalapa we had some good news.
A party of shipwrecked persons had been brought in by the coast guard,
hungry and nearly exhausted--among others a woman.
It was Diana--the sea had not claimed her, as I feared; and a year
later at a London hotel I met Gustavus and his wife, so that, being
together some days, we were able to compare notes of that fearful
experience; and the ladies actually became friends.
Poor Cummings was drowned, also the cook and two of the men. I made it
a point of honor to hunt up their relatives and liberally settle all
that was due the poor fellows three times over.
We took the Nile trip on our own boat, and it was a glorious time;
yet how often would my mind go back to old Bolivar and those exciting
scenes that marked the finding of that lost, though loved, one--my
Hildegarde.
THE END.
THE MOST COMPLETE LIST OF BERTHA M. CLAY STORIES IS REPRESENTED BY
The Bertha Clay Library
This line is devoted to the works of the popular Bertha M. Clay and
other writers of the same school. Many of the titles listed herein are
copyrighted and cannot be found in any other editions. This author
has successfully demonstrated her ability to write high-class love
stories, which charm the reader, from the moment the book is opened
until the last line is read. Her name is known throughout the entire
English-speaking world. Her style is peculiarly her own. She has
the happy faculty of making the reader feel that he is interested,
personally, in the wellfare and ultimate success of the principal
characters.
GENEVIEVE ULMAN
202. The Siren’s Triumph
MRS. EDWARD KENNARD
201. Love’s Temptation
BERTHA M. CLAY
200. Fair as a Lily
199. Strong in Her Love
198. A Heart Forlorn
197. A Soul Ensnared
196. Her Beautiful Foe
195. For Her Heart’s Sake
194. Sweeter Than Life
193. An Ocean of Love
192. A Coquette’s Victim
191. Her Honored Name
190. The Old Love or New?
189. Paying the Penalty
188. What It Cost Her
187. A Poisoned Heart
186. True Love’s Reward
185. Between Love and Ambition
184. A Queen Triumphant
183. A Heart’s Worship
182. A Loveless Engagement
181. The Chains of Jealousy
180. A Misguided Love
179. A Supreme Sacrifice
178. When Love and Hate Conflict
177. The Price of Love
176. A Wife’s Devotion
175. The Girl of His Heart
174. A Pilgrim of Love
173. The Queen of His Soul
172. A Purchased Love
171. An Untold Passion
170. A Deceptive Lover
169. A Captive Heart
168. A Fateful Passion
167. From Hate to Love
166. Her Boundless Faith
165. On With the New Love
164. Lost for Love
163. Glady’s Wedding Day
162. An Evil Heart
161. His Great Temptation
160. The Love of Lady Aurelia
159. The Lost Lady of Haddon
158. The Sunshine of His Life
157. Love’s Redemption
156. A Maid’s Misery
155. Every Inch a Queen
154. A Stolen Heart
153. A Tragedy of Love and Hate
152. A Bitter Courtship
151. Lady Ona’s Sin
150. The Tragedy of Lime Hall
149. A Wife’s Peril
148. Lady Ethel’s Whim
147. The Broken Trust
146. Lady Marchmont’s Widowhood
145. A Sinful Secret
144. The Hand Without a Wedding Ring
143. How Will It End
142. One Woman’s Sin
141. The Burden of a Secret
140. A Woman’s Witchery
139. Love in a Mask
138. The Price of a Bride
137. A Heart of Gold
136. A Loving Maid
135. For Love of Her
134. The Sins of the Father
133. A Dream of Love
132. A Woman’s Trust
131. A Bride from the Sea, and Other Stories
130. The Rival Heiresses
129. Lady Gwendoline’s Dream
128. Society’s Verdict
127. A Great Mistake
126. The Gambler’s Wife
125. For A Dream’s Sake
124. The Hidden Sin
123. Lady Muriel’s Secret
122. Dumaresq’s Temptation
121. The White Witch
120. The Story of An Error
119. Blossom and Fruit
118. The Paths of Love
117. A Struggle for the Right
116. The Queen of the County
115. Queen Amongst Women, And An Unnatural Bondage
114. A Woman’s Vengeance
113. Lord Elesmere’s Wife
112. His Wedded Wife
111. Irene’s Vow
110. Thrown on the World
109. A Bitter Reckoning
108. Her First Love
107. From Out the Gloom
106. Wedded Hands
105. A Hidden Terror
104. ’Twixt Smile and Tear
103. Two Kisses, and The Fatal Lilies
102. Dream Faces
101. A Broken Wedding Ring
100. In Shallow Waters
99. For Life and Love, and More Bitter Than Death
98. James Gordon’s Wife
97. Repented at Leisure
96. The Actor’s Ward
95. A Woman’s Temptation
94. Margery Daw
93. Signa’s Sweetheart
92. At Any Cost, and A Modern Cinderella
91. Under a Shadow
90. In Cupid’s Net, and So Near and Yet So Far
89. A Coquette’s Conquest
88. If Love be Love
87. Beyond Pardon
86. Guelda
85. A Woman’s Error
84. Lady Latimer’s Escape, and Other Stories
83. A Fatal Dower
82. A Dead Heart, and Love For a Day
81. Between Two Loves
80. The Earl’s Atonement
79. An Ideal Love
78. Another Man’s Wife
77. A Fair Mystery
76. Guiding Star
75. A Bitter Bondage
74. Thorns and Orange Blossoms
73. Her Martyrdom
72. Between Two Hearts
71. Marjorie Deane
70. A Heart’s Bitterness
69. Fair But Faithless
68. ’Twixt Love and Hate
67. In Love’s Crucible
66. Gladys Greye
65. His Perfect Trust
64. Wedded and Parted, and Fair but False
63. Another Woman’s Husband
62. Sweet Cymbeline
61. The Earl’s Error, and Letty Leigh
60. A Heart’s Idol
59. One False Step
58. Griselda
57. Violet Lisle
56. The Squire’s Darling, and Walter’s Wooing
55. Golden Gates
54. The Gipsy’s Daughter
53. A Fiery Ordeal
52. Claribel’s Love Story; or, Love’s Hidden Depths
51. For a Woman’s Honor
50. A True Magdalen; or, One False Step
49. Addie’s Husband, and Arnold’s Promise
48. Her Second Love
47. The Duke’s Secret
46. Beauty’s Marriage
45. Lover and Husband
44. The Belle of Lynn; or, The Miller’s Daughter
43. Madolin’s Lover
42. Hilary’s Folly; or, Her Marriage Vow
41. A Mad Love
40. A Nameless Sin
39. Marjorie’s Fate
38. Love’s Warfare
37. Weaker Than a Woman
36. On Her Wedding Morn, and Her Only Sin
35. A Woman’s War
34. The Romance of a Young Girl; or, The Heiress of Hilldrop
33. Set in Diamonds
32. Lord Lynne’s Choice
31. Redeemed by Love; or, Love’s Conflict; or, Love Works Wonders
30. The Romance of a Black Veil
29. A Woman’s Love Story
28. A Rose in Thorns
27. A Shadow of a Sin
26. A Struggle for a Ring
25. A Thorn in Her Heart
24. Prince Charlie’s Daughter
23. The World Between Them
22. The Sin of a Lifetime
21. Wife in Name Only
20. A Willful Maid
19. Two Fair Women; or, Which Loved Him Best?
18. A Passion Flower
17. Lady Castlemaine’s Divorce; or, Put Asunder
16. His Wife’s Judgment
15. Lady Damer’s Secret
14. A Haunted Life
13. Evelyn’s Folly
12. At War With Herself
11. For Another’s Sin; or, A Struggle for Love
10. One Against Many
9. Her Mother’s Sin; or, A Bright Wedding Day
8. Hilda’s Lover; or, The False Vow; or Lady Hutton’s Ward
7. A Dark Marriage Morn
6. Diana’s Discipline; or, Sunshine and Roses
5. The Mystery of Colde Fell; or, Not Proven
4. Lord Lisle’s Daughter
3. A Golden Heart
2. Dora Thorne
1. A Bitter Atonement
EAGLE SERIES A weekly publication devoted to good literature. NO. 329
August 10, 1903
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It therefore _must_ be the best medicine in the world for woman’s
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NOTE.--If you are ill why don’t you write to Mrs. Pinkham at Lynn,
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to health? It will cost you nothing, and may save your life.
Transcriber’s Notes:
A table of contents has been added by the transcriber and placed in the
public domain.
Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected.
Some inconsistent hyphenation has been retained from the original.