Every now and then I heard a cart rattle across the drawbridge. That
generally meant a fresh arrival, some other Horizontal caught, and he'd
be shoved in with us. At first I was terribly afraid lest I should see
Gerald brought along; but four o'clock came, Gerald evidently hadn't
been caught, and I began to feel quite easy in my mind about him.
I did wonder why nobody from the ship had come along, but wasn't
particularly worried. Things would 'pan out' all right, and this was a
rummy enough experience for any one.
Just after four o'clock there was great excitement in the courtyard
outside. Soldiers ran about hunting for their rifles and formed up
behind the saluting guns, trumpets sounded some kind of a 'general
salute,' I heard a lot of horses' hoofs clattering over the drawbridge,
and a few minutes later round the corner stalked the little President
and a crowd of officers, the Governor of Los Angelos and his two
A.D.C.'s among them.
He'd evidently come along to count his day's 'bag,' for he walked along
the grating looking in at us. My aunt! he had the cruellest eyes I'd
ever seen.
He first caught sight of the old chap who'd unfastened my ropes. Phew!
he did give him a piece of his mind through the grating! and then the
old fellow was dragged out and marched off to a bit of blank wall
between two of the saluting guns. The fat little A.D.C. went up to him,
and then I knew what was going to happen, for I saw him offer to tie a
handkerchief across his eyes--he was going to be shot. But he wouldn't
have his eyes covered, and for a moment I saw him standing bolt upright
with his arms folded in front of him. Then some soldiers ran up, stood
in a line between him and me, an officer gave an order, their rifles
went up to the present; I turned my head away and saw the other
prisoners clutching the gratings, their throat muscles all swollen, and
their eyes starting out; there was a scraggy volley, and the President
came back again.
Two more men were hauled out and shot, and I shall never forget the face
of one of them as he was marched away. It was just like picking a fat
hen out of a coop, and we were the hens. Then back the President came a
fourth time, and I was dragged out.
He knew that I wasn't Gerald right enough, but his eyes simply spat
fire, and he stamped with rage and was more furious than ever because I
couldn't understand him.
[Illustration: "HIS EYES SPAT FIRE"]
The fat little A.D.C. was called up to ask questions. He gave me a
friendly wink, and I notched up a point in his favour.
He jabbered away to the President and I heard 'Wilson no Don Geraldio'
and '_Hector buque de guerra--Inglesa--Los Angelos_.'
He asked me if I knew where Gerald was. Of course I didn't and shook my
head, 'No! old chap, I don't.'
The President didn't believe it when this was told him.
'El Presidente say shoot you if do not say where is Don Geraldio.'
Of course that was only bluff, and I smiled.
Then the firing party were called across, but that was still only bluff,
I thought, and it didn't frighten me in the least till I saw the fat
little A.D.C.'s face turn yellow under his brown skin.
Well, then I was in a mortal funk, if you like, and something inside me
went flop down into my boots.
'Our cannon--cannon of _Hector_--shoot thirty kilometres,' I jerked out,
remembering how impressed the A.D.C.'s had been with our after 9.2, my
tongue feeling a bit sticky and my knees not altogether steady.
The old Governor, the two A.D.C.'s, and several other officers were
evidently doing their best for me. I heard 'kilometres' mentioned once
or twice, and then the President waved his hand majestically and I was
taken back and the grating locked behind me.
My head was buzzing, and I don't mind telling you that I felt a jolly
sight more comfortable inside than outside--just then. The little
President and all his staff went away, and I heard their horses
clattering over the drawbridge. Before he went away, my fat little pal
came along and held out his cigarette case through the gratings. I
bowed and smiled and took one cigarette; but he shook his head, he
wanted me to empty it. I did this and then had a brilliant inspiration.
My cigarette case was a pretty decent one, so I offered him mine.
'We change cigarette cases--for remembrance--I shall always remember,' I
said.
The kind-hearted little chap seemed quite pleased, took mine as I took
his, bowed, said '_Adios_! I also shall remember,' and went after the
others as fast as his spurs and his sabre and his fat little legs would
let him.
I sat down on my cartridge-box and wondered what the dickens 'Old Tin
Eye' was doing and what had become of Bob and the Angel, smoked one of
my pal's cigarettes, examined the cigarette case--it was an oxydised
silver one with black enamel work, probably made in Paris--and watched
some black convicts with chains round their ankles filling in three
graves under the wall opposite.
Phew! there might have been four if I hadn't remembered about the 9.2's
and the thirty kilometres. I shivered and felt jolly sick, and wished to
goodness I was back again in the _Hector's_ gun-room.
*CHAPTER IV*
*The Rescue of the Sub*
_Written by Midshipman Bob Temple_
'Cut along to the Club and find the Skipper,' Billums had sung out as we
slid down from that window at the Hotel de L'Europe, and when we jumped
to the pavement we saw all the soldier chaps--dozens of them--pouncing
on him. They didn't pay any attention to us, and it was no good
stopping there, so my chum, the Angel, and I scooted away as fast as we
could go.
We wormed our way round the corner, out of the square all right, and
then we lost ourselves, and were wedged in among an awful crowd of
people, carts and mules, cavalry and artillery all jumbled up together,
jostling and shoving and cursing. We could hardly move at all, or see
where we were going.
We did get along presently, and kept looking down the side streets to
try and see all those flags over the Club gate, but we'd forgotten
exactly which turning it was. We'd work our way to the outside of the
crowd and dart down a side street, looking for the flags and those two
sentries, and dart back again into the main street, holding on to each
other so as not to get separated, and push and push till we got to the
next side street. It was awfully hot work; we couldn't find it and I
simply felt terrified about Billums, when we ran into those four
_Hercules_ mids. whom we'd upset in the morning. I'd never been so glad
to see any one before.
'Hello! Coal lighters! What's the hurry?' they sang out. 'Looking for
coal?'
We didn't mind that in the least.
'Where's the Club?' we gasped. 'Quick! tell us! Our Sub's been
arrested, and we want to find our Skipper.'
'We've just come from there,' they shouted. 'My aunt! what a lark!
Come along!' and they turned back and all six of us pushed our way
along. It was hot work, if you like.
'What's he been up to?' one of them asked me.
'They think he's an insurgent; he is just like his brother who is one.'
We saw the flags almost directly, dashed through the gateway into the
Club, the _Hercules_ mids. after us, and saw Mr. Perkins sitting under a
punkah trying to get cool.
'Where's the Captain, sir?' we asked.
'Don't know! Was here ten minutes ago.'
We hunted everywhere--he wasn't in the Club--and ran back to Mr.
Perkins.
'The Sub's been arrested, sir; they're half-killing him. They think
he's his brother and have carried him off. What can we do?' Mr.
Perkins whistled and scratched his head.
That big German man who had been playing billiards with cousin Gerald in
the morning was sitting close by and jumped up, 'What you say? Gerald
Wilson caught?'
'No,' we both piped out, 'not Gerald, his brother Bill, our Sub; they've
collared him at the hotel near the cathedral.'
'Phew! that's awkward! Something must be done at once. They'd shoot
Gerald Wilson if they caught him, and they may shoot his brother.' He
spoke very rapidly.
'What can be done?' Mr. Perkins asked, his red face getting quite white.
'I'll drive you to the British Minister--it's a long way out of the
town--he's gone there, I know--that's the only thing we can do--you'll
have to wait till my carriage comes.'
We did wait, waited for half an hour--it seemed hours, and though Mr.
Perkins stood us lemon squashes and cakes we were much too worried to
eat anything. The _Hercules_ mids. waited about--the greedy pigs--till
Mr. Perkins had to order some for them too, and they finished the whole
lot of cakes, ours as well as theirs. Then the big German called us,
and he and Mr. Perkins and we two drove away. It was a quarter to three
and Mr. Macdonald would be expecting us in a quarter of an
hour--whatever should we do I The Angel and I couldn't keep our feet
still--we felt so awful--because we could have walked faster than the
carriage went in the crowded streets. When we turned down a side
street, the nigger driver lashed the horses into a gallop, we got out
into the country, and presently pulled up at a big white house with the
Union Jack flying above it.
Oh! It was so comforting to see it.
Out we jumped, the German hurried us through a courtyard, a black
footman in livery led us through a lot of beautiful cool rooms into a
garden with palms and fountains, and we saw a whole crowd of
people--English ladies too--sitting in the shade. We forgot to be shy,
we were so frightened, caught sight of Captain Grattan and Captain Roger
Hill, and, without waiting, simply ran up to them through all the
ladies, and told them all about it.
'Tut, tut, tut, tut,' our Captain said, jumping out of his chair and
screwing in his eyeglass. 'Tut, tut, that's serious. Come this way,'
and he took us in to the British Minister--a big tall chap with a nose
like a hawk and great bushy eyebrows, dressed in white duck clothes. We
had to tell our story again, clutching each other; he made us so
frightened, looking at us so fiercely. You couldn't tell from his face
what he thought of it, but he told the Captain that he'd change into
uniform and take us to the President right away.
'It's serious,' he said. 'Gerald Wilson is too openly mixed up in
politics to claim our protection, and things may go badly with his
brother.'
We felt so jolly relieved that something was at last going to be done
that we did have some tea then, the ladies crowding round the Angel and
helping him, though they weren't so keen on me--they never are, which is
a jolly good thing. 'If I'd a face like a girl's they'd fuss round me
too,' I told the Angel, and he was beastly rude and called me 'Old
Pimple Face,' and made them all laugh at me. I could have kicked him.
The Minister was back again before we'd finished stuffing, and then
hurried us away--he and the Captain in one carriage, and Mr. Perkins and
we two in another.
We drove as fast as ever we could back to the town, and the soldiers we
passed looked as if they'd like to shoot us. They scowled so much that
I was jolly glad that the Minister was in his gorgeous gold braid
uniform and the Captain and Mr. Perkins were in theirs. We had to pass
close to San Sebastian, and we told Mr. Perkins that that was probably
where Billums had been taken. 'Mr. Macdonald told us they take all the
revolutionary people there.'
Just as we'd told him this, we heard a scrappy kind of a volley from
inside the walls.
'Good God!' Mr. Perkins nearly jumped off his seat, his red face
turning quite yellow; 'they're shooting people already. Why can't we go
faster?' I almost blubbed.
We were back again in the city now, the streets simply filled with
soldiers, leaning up against the walls, trying to find a little shade
and some of them shouting rudely at us as we passed.
At last we stopped opposite some big iron gates through which soldiers
were coming and going in hundreds. The sentries there wouldn't let the
Minister pass through at first, till an officer came along. Then we all
got out and walked in, following the Minister, who stalked along, head
and shoulders taller than any of the officers standing about, and pushed
his way into a big room crowded with very excited people, most of them
officers, half of them niggers and the other half not much lighter.
They left off chattering as we appeared, and bowed and clicked their
heels when they saw the Minister, but didn't look at all pleased.
'They hate us English,' I heard the Minister tell the Captain. 'Most of
us favour the Vice-President's party, though only Gerald Wilson has been
fool enough to do so openly.'
We stuck very closely to him whilst officers and orderlies kept on
streaming in and out of a small door leading into another room. Most of
their uniforms were jolly smart--either white with yellow facings or
khaki with white facings. Cavalry officers had a light-blue striped
cotton tunic fitting very tightly and very bulging khaki
riding-breeches. They looked awful dandies, and all wore stiff white
shirts with cuffs although it was so hot--the blacker they were and the
more like niggers, the more stiff white cuffs they showed.
What the Angel and I noticed chiefly about the infantry officers was
that they didn't seem to worry so much whether their clothes fitted
them, and they nearly all wore patent-leather 'Jemima' boots, with the
elastic generally worn out and quite loose round the ankles.
'The President is not here--won't be here for some time--he's gone to
San Sebastian,' the Minister said in a low voice.
You could never tell whether he was worried about it or not--his voice
and his face never changed. 'We shall have to wait. He's a fiery
little chap--thinks he is the Napoleon of the west, and loves to show
off before us Europeans. He'll be in a pretty bad temper to-day. He
meant to arrest the Vice-President, de Costa, as he left the cathedral,
but he and his friends got wind of it and left by a side door; smuggled
away as priests or nuns, some say, and have slipped through his fingers.
He meant to "scotch" the revolution which is coming, and he's failed
badly, so he'll be a pretty handful to tackle.'
'Well, _he_ might be able to tackle him,' the Angel whispered, and we
both thought that he looked perfectly grand in his uniform. Then there
was a great clatter outside; we could hear officers calling their men to
attention; trumpets were blown, all the officers in the room took their
cigarettes out of their mouths, stood bolt-upright, and in came the
President just as we'd seen him in the procession. Every one made a
lane for him to pass into the room beyond, and he spotted us, but hardly
took any notice of the Minister's salute or of our Captain's either,
which made the Angel and me very angry, though we were really too
frightened at his very cruel-looking eyes to be angry.
Several people followed him--all very gorgeously dressed--covered with
medals and with green and yellow sashes over their shoulders, and the
last to come in was the little A.D.C. from Los Angelos with the big
spurs and the curved sword.
The Minister spoke to one of them, who seemed to be doing 'orderly'
officer, but he only shrugged his shoulders, went into the little room.
We heard a few fierce words and back he came, shrugging his shoulders
all the more.
'He says the President is too busy to see me,' the Minister told the
Captain, who was gradually getting angry at being treated like this.
Then there was another commotion, and in came the grand-looking old
Governor of Los Angelos and the black A.D.C. He seemed to be a friend
of the Minister, for he stopped and shook his hand, bowed and yarned
quite pleasantly. He too went into the other room.
'I've told him that I must see the President,' the Minister said, and we
waited again, though even he wasn't successful, and came back shrugging
his shoulders and spreading out his hands, his great sword clanking
along the floor.
The Minister's face never altered the slightest bit. 'He refuses to see
me--will only receive the senior foreign Minister--that is the Comte de
Launy, the Frenchman. It's no use waiting here any longer--we must go
and find him--it will take an hour.'
His voice never altered in the slightest degree, but the Captain was
'tut tutting' and polishing his eye-glass, whilst Mr. Perkins was
bubbling over with wrath.
As we went out we saw the officers all sneering at us, but the Governor
sang out something very angrily, and they stood to attention and he
himself bowed us out. We were jolly glad to get out, I can tell you,
because it was such a horrid feeling to have all these strange
fierce-looking officers all round us without being able to understand a
word they said, and to feel certain that they'd like to murder us.
'Well, the old Governor's a gent, isn't he?' the Angel whispered.
We drove back to the Residence--I was feeling awfully sick with funk
about Billums--and there we were left whilst the Captain and the
Minister drove away again to find the Frenchman.
It was long after four o'clock; Mr. Macdonald would be on his way down
to Los Angelos, and we hadn't the least idea how we should get back; but
we didn't want to go back so long as old Billums was shut up in San
Sebastian, and might be shot any minute.
There were only three ladies there now, the Minister's wife and her two
daughters, and they did their very best to cheer us up. The Angel was
in great form--he always was when ladies were about--and sang his rotten
songs; but as I couldn't sit still, I wandered out into the courtyard,
and fed some goldfish in one of the fountains. It was fairly cool
there, and every time I heard wheels I ran to the gateway, but they
didn't come back till nearly six o'clock, and when I rushed out, hoping
to see Billums with them, there was only a dried-up little man in
another gorgeous uniform--the French Minister.
'No good, Temple,' the Captain said, looking awfully serious.
'He won't let him go till his brother surrenders--does it to humiliate
us.'
'What are you going to do now, sir?' I asked him, but he didn't answer.
They all three drove away again, and Mr. Perkins told me that they were
going to collect all the foreign Ministers, and intended to see him in a
body.
Then he and we two mids. had to do more waiting--it was terrible. The
sun went down, it got dark quite suddenly, and we couldn't help thinking
of the awful road down the mountains to Los Angelos and how we were
going to get down there at night.
The Minister's wife gave us some dinner and tried to be jolly, but I
couldn't be, and couldn't eat anything. She and the girls were pretty
nervous too, because, all the time we were pretending to have dinner,
there were noises as if a riot was going on in the town. We were all
fidgeting, and the black men-servants in their scarlet liveries were
very jumpy. You could see by the way they moved about that they were
frightened too.
The Minister's wife made them close the big windows and that drowned a
good deal of the noise, and I couldn't see the dark creepy shadows of
the palms outside and felt less uncomfortable. She kept on saying, 'I
wish your father would come back,' and, just as we were going to have
some coffee, we heard the banging of rifles. The black footman dropped
his tray, and all of them simply trembled. It was no use to sit any
longer at the table, the two girls began to cry, and then it was our
turn to do something to help.
The firing sometimes seemed to be coming our way, so we three went round
the garden and made sure that all the gates were locked--a jolly creepy
job it was out there in the dark, and I jumped every time I heard a
rifle go off. The servants were all standing about, whispering and
looking frightened, which made it all the more horrid; so, to give them
something to do, we sent them to close all the shutters, though we
couldn't get them to go into the street to close some there, and had to
do that ourselves. Then we made the three ladies come into the
drawing-room, lighted all the lamps, and tried to cheer them up. The
Angel played the piano, and Mr. Perkins, who hates singing, bellowed out
some sea-songs and made them join in the choruses. That wasn't much of
a success, so he scratched his funny old head and did a few tricks. One
was to stand straight upright and then sit down on the floor without
bending his knees, and he did it so jolly well that it nearly shook the
ornaments off the mantelpiece, and the bump frightened them all. Then he
showed them how he could fall flat on his chest without bending his
knees, and did it, but banged his chin hard on the polished floor, so
that wasn't quite a success either.
We couldn't think of any other tricks.
Nine o'clock came, and ten o'clock--there was no firing now--and
half-past ten came before we heard several carriages coming towards the
house, and went out into the courtyard to the street gate.
The Minister, the Captain, the tall German, who turned out to be the
German Minister, and was in a grand-looking uniform, the little
Frenchman, four or five others, and the United States Minister in
ordinary evening dress, got down, and then several ladies, closely
wrapped up, came in too.
All the Ministers disappeared into another room by themselves, only the
Captain and the ladies coming into the drawing-room. He was saying
'tut, tut' all the time, and all we could get out of him was, 'We've
been treated like children--tut, tut--by a miserable half-bred
savage--he won't listen to us.'
'A lot of firing going on in the city, isn't there, sir?' Mr. Perkins
asked.
'Only a few drunken soldiers letting off their rifles,' he grunted, and
then he was sent for, and a few minutes afterwards a man-servant came in
to ask the Minister's wife to speak to her husband. She went out, and
we could hear her speaking to him, and back she came looking very pale.
'Captain Grattan' (that was our Captain) 'has asked us to stay on board
the _Hector_, my dears; we are going down with him to-night.'
She tried to look cheerful, but they and we knew what that meant--that
it wasn't safe for them in Santa Cruz any longer--and the girls began to
cry again. All three of them went away to get ready.
'Phew! Great smokes,' Mr. Perkins whistled, 'it's come to a pretty
pass--that ass of a Sub has stirred up a hornets' nest, if you like.'
'It wasn't his fault, sir,' I said; 'he couldn't help it.'
Just then the Captain and the Ministers trooped in. They looked as
though they'd come to some decision which pleased them, and it made the
Angel and me feel more happy about poor old Billums up there in San
Sebastian. We both wondered whether he'd had any dinner, and what he
thought had become of us--all this time. Some more ladies came in, all
wrapped up in furs because the night was very cold, and in the middle of
all the hubbub we heard a lot of cavalry coming along. They stopped
outside the house, and a moment later the Governor of Los Angelos, with
his two A.D.C.'s, came in. Weren't we pleased to see him, that's all!
There was more bowing and scraping, coffee was handed round, and we two
edged alongside the little A.D.C. who had talked English in the gun-room
yesterday. He recognised us then and said, smiling, 'We take you to Los
Angelos to-night--the senoras and the senoritas also--we have many horse
soldiers--the road it has much danger.'
'How about Billums--William Wilson--our Sub?' we asked, 'up in San
Sebastian.'
He smiled, and pulled out--what d'you think?--old Billums's cigarette
case--I knew it jolly well--and said, 'I give him my--he give me him,'
but shut up like an oyster, shrugged his shoulders, and shook his head
when we asked him if Billums was coming with us. That made us miserable
again, and we went out to see what the cavalry escort were like. They
had dismounted, and were swaggering into the courtyard, looking absolute
villains, most of them niggers, their carbines and bandoliers over their
shoulders, revolvers in their belts, and swords, which clanked and
rattled whenever they moved. The servants were giving them cigarettes
and some food, but, for all that, they didn't seem at all friendly, and
the whites of their eyes showed up under the swinging lanterns, and made
them look more like brigands than ever. The Angel palled up to them and
made them show him their rifles, but I felt too frightened and only
hoped that the Governor was coming with us. The carriages drove up, all
the ladies came out and were put into them, the dear old Governor of Los
Angelos handing them in and bending down to kiss our Minister's wife's
hands in such a jolly manner that the Angel and I could have hugged him.
We felt that he could be absolutely trusted, and weren't we jolly glad
again when his horse was led up and he and part of the escort rode away
with the ladies.
In the last carriage the Captain, Mr. Perkins, and we two mids. were
stowed, and away we went after them with the two A.D.C.'s bobbing behind
on their horses and the rest of the escort, leaving the Ministers all
standing together under the lamp which lit up their faces and all their
beautiful gold lace.
'They don't look very "sniffy," do they?' I whispered to the Angel, 'I
should if I was letting my wife go away like this.'
'Not if you'd got those uniforms on and had a Frenchman or a German or a
Dutchman watching you,' he whispered.