CHAPTER VI--THE HOLE IN THE WALL

It would not be becoming to record the exact words used by O'Connor as

he lay, within a few feet of Will, on the slope of the embankment. They

were very expressive, and very warm, so warm indeed that Mr. Jackson

just beyond him suggested that he should "draw it mild." Ruggles, a

little farther away, did not utter a word, and for some moments Will

simply listened sympathetically to O'Connor, who undoubtedly expressed

the feelings of them all.

"It was Machado, after all," said Will at length.

This provoked another explosion from O'Connor, who said a great deal as

to what he would do to Machado when he got him.

"Yes, the scoundrel!" said Mr. Jackson. "He and his telegraph have done

it. I'll take care another time to have an English telegraphist."

Machado had in fact telegraphed in the Chief's name to Bolivar, asking

that six empty trucks should be coupled to the usual train. He had

further instructed that the train should stop at a place about twenty

miles from railhead to load up sleepers, which were cut from the forest

for use on the railway. When the train pulled up at the appointed spot

there was no load of sleepers, but a company of armed rebels, who sprang

into the empty trucks, and covered themselves with canvas, Captain

Espejo having ordered the driver, a Spaniard, to take them on to

railhead, threatening him with instant death if he attempted to give

warning.

"I wonder what they will do with us," said Mr. Jackson.

"I hope they'll take us away from this pretty soon," said Will. "There's

a fly on my nose, and I can't shake it off."

"My throat is like an oven," growled O'Connor.

"One glass of beer!" sighed Ruggles: "just one: there's no harm in one."

Their plight was indeed desperately unpleasant. They were laid on the

sunny side of the embankment. The afternoon sun beat full upon them,

and before long they were subject to the pressing attentions of

innumerable insects, which, their arms being bound, they were unable to

drive away. They got some relief by turning over on their faces, but as

time went on the heat, the insects, and their thirst made them

thoroughly wretched. More than once O'Connor yelled for some one to

bring him a drink; but no attention was paid to him, and it seemed as if

Captain Espejo, for all his charming manners, was bent on slowly

grilling them to death.

Just before sunset, however, a bugle sounded. Sitting up, the prisoners

witnessed the arrival of General Carabano himself. He rode in amid a

group of twenty officers, who formed a sort of guard of honour. Captain

Espejo had paraded his men to welcome the General, whom they received

with a volley of sounding vivas. Behind rode a long line of cavalry in

all sorts of costumes, many of them having a led horse, no doubt the

steeds of Captain Espejo's party. Behind these came a long procession

of animals and men, the latter the most motley collection of ruffians

Will had ever seen. Some were mounted on mules, some on donkeys; some

had saddles, some rode bare-backed. There were bridles of leather, of

rope, of bejuco, a climbing plant that grows plentifully in the forests.

Some had no bridles at all, but clung to the donkey's mane, guiding it

by a slap on the right or left ear, or a thump on the flank.

When Will thought he had seen the last of them enter, he was amazed to

find that they were followed by a regiment of Caribbee infantry, who had

already earned from the Government troops the name of Carabano's

bloodhounds. Their only clothing was a narrow strip about the waist and

the feathers in their hair. Each had a lance, and a bow and quiver

slung over the back.

"A dashed fine-looking lot," said O'Connor, admiring these muscular

redskins. "You could make something of those fellows."

"The General looks a Tartar," said Will.

"There's a good deal of the negro in his composition, I'll swear,"

remarked Mr. Jackson. "That's a bad look-out for us; there's no more

insufferable brute than your negro in authority."

General Carabano in truth looked an unpleasant man to deal with. He was

very big and tall, with a large fat face, a wide nose and thick lips,

and woolly hair. He sat his horse in the middle of the compound by the

tree until his men had all marched in. Then, after a few words with

Captain Espejo, he rode towards the prisoners. Halting opposite them,

he told his orderlies to stand them on their feet, and then, assuming a

haughty demeanour, he demanded to know what they meant by rebelling

against his Government. None of them replied. Enraged at their

silence, he declared that he would shoot them. On this, however,

Captain Espejo deferentially suggested that the penalty might be at

least deferred.

"They are Englishmen, Excellency," he said, "and if you treat them as

they undoubtedly deserve there will be trouble with their Government,

which may seriously embarrass the consolidation of your administration."

"Caramba!" cried the General: "their Government is thousands of miles

away."

"True, Excellency; but it is above all things essential that the lives

of foreigners should be spared if you wish your Government to be

recognized."

"Well, we will think of it. Set a guard over them to-night, Senor

Capitan, and take care that none of them escapes. Where is that loyal

friend of the State, Senor Machado?"

The prisoners' feet were unbound, and they were led away to one of the

tents, so that they did not hear the conversation between the General

and Machado. The upshot of this was that the telegraphist flashed a

message to Bolivar in Mr. Jackson's name, saying that the engine had

broken down, and asking for another train to be dispatched with bridging

materials and other things which he found himself in need of. The

General's aim was to get possession of as much rolling stock as possible

for the transport of his troops to Bolivar when the time arrived. The

city was a hundred and thirty miles distant by rail, though less than

half that distance across country, and the junction was fifty miles from

railhead, so that with care and the assistance of Machado it would be

easy to prevent news of what had happened from reaching the Jefe. The

camp was situated in a part of the country remote from highways, and the

mounted men whom the General had placed at various points would prevent

any messengers from getting through in either direction.

The prisoners were given a meal; then they were bound again and left in

the tent, a strong guard being posted outside. They spent a most

uncomfortable night. After Captain Espejo's remonstrance they did not

suppose the General would shoot them; but uncertainty as to their fate

and distress at the ruin of the Company's business worried them, and

they were sleepless during the greater part of the night, discussing

their situation in low tones.

Next day they were not allowed to leave the tent. They saw nothing of

the General, who was in fact busy following up his operations of the

previous evening. He got Machado to telegraph to head-quarters for more

money. The reason given was that a wash-out--one of the sudden floods

to which the country is subject--had destroyed a large quantity of

stores, which must be replaced on the spot by purchases from the

neighbouring haciendados. He impressed into his service such of the

peons and foremen as he thought worthy of it, and drove the rest from

the camp, no doubt feeling confident that by the time any of them could

make their way over difficult country to Bolivar that town would have

fallen into his hands.

The supplies and money requisitioned arrived late on the following day.

The General had now two locomotives and thirty wagons, including those

that were permanently at railhead for construction purposes. The

personnel of the two trains were kept under guard, to prevent them from

making off with the engines.

Meanwhile the General, finding the rough camp at railhead little to his

taste, had shifted his quarters to Antonio de Mello's residence about

five miles below. The news of the coup had been conveyed to De Mello

instantly by some of the Indians who had fled from the camp, and he had

hurriedly quitted the place for another estate of his many miles to the

south, where his mother and sister were living. The hacienda was left

in charge of the servants. De Mello knew that he could make no

resistance to the appropriation of his house by the revolutionary

leader; the utmost he could do was to remove his horses. It was not

very patriotic conduct; but patriotism is not a common virtue in that

land of revolution.

The General took up his quarters in the hacienda with some of his staff,

including Captain Espejo, their horses being placed in the new stables.

The sight of the old stables suggested to Espejo that the prisoners

might be conveyed thither, so that they should be constantly under the

General's eye. Accordingly they were marched in under escort of

cavalry, O'Connor fuming at the indignity, which gave the others a

little amusement. Will even cracked a joke when each was given a

loose-box, remarking that it was the first time he had been in a box,

the dress circle having been hitherto the height of his attainment.

Unknown to the prisoners, a telegraph cabin had been hurriedly rigged up

for Machado at the railway line within a short distance of the house.

The General had found the man so useful that he deemed it convenient to

have him close at hand. It seemed advisable also that his troops should

be more closely in touch with him than they could be in the old camp, so

he ordered the tents to be struck, and all the stores and other things

that would be useful to be transferred to a new camp about half-a-mile

in the rear of the hacienda.

Will's box was in the centre, and through the open door he could see two

sentries marching to and fro. Another sentry was posted at the door of

the hacienda. He could see also the comings and goings of the General

and his staff. They often walked up and down on the terrace in front of

the house. The door of the stables was usually open during the

day-time, but it was closed at night, and a sentry came on guard within.

General Carabano had given orders that the prisoners were to be

prevented from communicating with one another. At first they

disregarded the command, but when Captain Espejo threatened to gag them

if they persisted they thought it best to remain silent, irksome though

the restriction was. One of the annoyances of their situation was the

impertinent curiosity of the officers and such of the men as came on

various errands to the hacienda. The former sometimes lolled at the

door, smoking their long cigarros, and jesting among themselves at the

four prisoners, who sat in enforced silence in the mangers. When the

officers were not present, their servants copied them, and drove

O'Connor almost frantic with their insulting remarks. The other three,

not so sensitive as the fiery Irishman, accepted their lot more

philosophically.

Meanwhile General Carabano's force was increasing. News of his exploit

had been carried through the neighbourhood, and since nothing succeeds

like success, it had had the effect of bringing to his flag many who

hoped to share in his expected triumph. There was at present plenty of

provisions in the camp, and with the serviceable Machado at his elbow,

the General could always telegraph for further supplies. Will hoped

that De Mello would have informed the authorities at Caracas of what had

occurred, and that a Government force would be dispatched to deal with

the General; but De Mello had gone in the opposite direction. Moreover,

the Government had its hands full in the north, and there was no chance

of present assistance from that quarter.

On the second day of the imprisonment, Will, looking through the

doorway, caught sight of a black figure lurking among some bushes on the

farther side of the lake, not far from the house. It seemed very much

like his negro boy Jose, and to assure himself on the point, he walked

as far as the sentry would allow him towards the door. As he came into

the light the negro apparently recognized him and impulsively started

forward: then, fearing discovery, slipped back again into the bushes.

"I wonder what he is after," thought Will.

At that moment he saw Machado leave the house, and walk slowly round the

margin of the lake as if going for an aimless stroll. All at once he

sprang forward, and before the negro could get away, Machado pounced on

him and hauled him to the house. They disappeared through the doorway,

and though Will kept a pretty careful watch on it for the rest of the

day, he did not see the boy come out again.

That night it occurred to him that, though speaking was forbidden, he

might yet communicate with the Chief, whose box was next to his own.

They both knew the Morse code, though neither had any expert knowledge

of telegraphy, and Will experimented by tapping gently on the partition,

spelling out the words, "Are you awake?" For some time he received no

reply, and thought that the Chief must either be asleep or did not

understand that the taps had any meaning. By and by, however, when the

question was repeated for the fourth time, Will was delighted to hear

answering taps, which he made out to be, "All right: I twig: be

careful."

The conversation that ensued was a very laborious one. The prisoners

were afraid of attracting the attention of the sentry, and sometimes

tapped so gently that neither could understand the other. At the best,

spelling a message by means of dots and dashes is a lengthy process. But

by and by the snores of Ruggles and the incessant croaking of the

bullfrogs that infested the canal and lake covered the slight sounds on

the partition, and the prisoners conversed more freely. What they said

to each other in this way is as follows--

"Machado has caught my boy Jose and lugged him into house."

"Ware hydroplane."

"I shall be sick if they find it."

"They'll make the boy tell."

"Wish I could get away."

"Wishing won't do it."

"No."

"Door locked, sentry inside and out: no go."

"Wish I could, though."

"Impossible."

"Nothing's impossible."

"Rubbish!"

"If I can!"

"You can't."

"I might get to Bolivar."

"No good if you could."

"They'd send help."

"They wouldn't. Country disturbed: would have sent escort with train if

could."

"Can't we do anything?"

"No: go to sleep."

"Can't sleep."

"No such word as can't."

"I can escape then."

"Rubbish."

"Rotten business."

"Go to sleep."

But Will remained awake for some hours, beating his brains for some

means of breaking prison. With a brick wall behind him, a sentry at the

door inside, another outside, he had to confess at length that the idea

seemed hopeless, and gave it up in despair.

Next night again, after a fruitless conversation with the Chief, he lay

awake still pondering the problem. All at once he thought he heard a

slight scratching on the wall behind him. Before he could assure

himself that he was not mistaken the sound ceased. He waited anxiously.

Yes: without doubt some person or animal was scratching on the bricks,

and judging by the sound the wall must be very thin. He tapped gently

with his finger-nail on the brickwork. The scratching ceased for a

considerable time; then began again. Once more he tapped, wondering

whether a friend outside was trying to communicate with him: once more

the sound stopped; it seemed as though the scratcher had given a hint

that he should discontinue tapping. He lay listening. By and by the

scratching recommenced, and went on continuously. Will fell asleep with

the sound in his ears, and when he was waked by the sentry opening the

door, he almost believed he had heard it in a dream.

The prisoners were taken out for an airing each day, being carefully

kept apart. Will looked around eagerly as he walked along by the side

of the sentry, to see if there was any clue to the proceedings of the

night. Passing along the side of the stables, he glanced at the back

wall, but there was nothing to indicate the presence of any one.

Tropical weeds grew in profusion behind the stables, nothing having been

done to clear the ground since they had been disused. All day he kept

his eye on the front of the house. There was the usual coming and going

of the inmates, but never a sign that any one of them was a friend.

Shortly after nightfall, the scratching began. It was so quietly done

that there was no danger of the sentry hearing it through the croaking

of the frogs. Will could no longer doubt that some one was trying to

get through the wall. He tapped on the partition.

"Do you hear scratching?"

"No. Mosquitoes or ants?"

"Some one trying to make hole in wall."

"Rubbish."

"Fact."

"Must be a fool."

Will did not attempt further to convince this doubting Thomas, but

listened hopefully to the continuous scratching. It went on for hours,

and by and by, as it seemed to be coming nearer, he thought of passing

his hand over the surface of the brickwork. It touched, just below him,

the point of a sharp instrument, and he discovered that the whole of the

mortar above two bricks had been scraped away. He wished that he could

have helped his unknown friend, but he had neither knife nor any other

implement. The knowledge that some one was trying to release him kept

him awake all that night, and he perspired with anxiety lest when

morning came the work should be discovered. But the sentry did not

approach the wall. The day seemed to drag terribly, even though he

slept a good part of it. Never in his life had he been so eager for

night to come.

Before the next dawn there was a gap in the wall almost large enough for

him to crawl through. He bent down to it, and spoke in a whisper; but

the only answer was the thrusting back of the bricks into their place.

Hearing the Chief grunting in the next box, Will resolved to acquaint

him with the progress the unknown worker had made.

"There's hole in wall nearly big enough to squeeze through."

"Honest Injun?"

"Yes. One more night's work will finish it."

"Who's doing it?"

"Don't know. Shall I ask him to make one for you?"

The Chief did not immediately reply.

"Shall I?"

"I've been thinking. No."

"Why not?"

"We'd want four. Take a fortnight."

"Couldn't we overpower sentry and all get away through this hole?"

"No: too risky. Fellow outside would hear scuffle. Certain to. Sure

you can get out?"

"To-morrow or next day."

"Make for hydroplane. Less risk for one. Go to Bolivar and get help if

you can. Most likely you can't."

"Pity we can't tell others. They don't understand code."

"They'll know soon enough. There'll be a fine hullabaloo when the

sentry misses you. Don't go without saying good-bye."

In the middle of the next night Will found that the opening was large

enough to admit his body. He tapped on the partition. There was no

answer. He tapped again: still no answer. The Chief was asleep.

Fearing to let his chance slip, Will determined to go at once. Slowly

and cautiously he wriggled through to the outside. A dark form was

crouching among the weeds close to the opening. It gave a low grunt as

Will appeared. Azito rose from his kneeling posture and began to move

away, creeping like a shadow along the wall. Will stole after him.

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