CHAPTER VII--CARABANO'S PLANS

Azito after a few steps turned aside from the stables, from the other

side of which came the heavy tramp of the sentry's feet, and struck into

the undergrowth towards a small plantation about three hundred yards

from the house. They bent low to avoid observation, but the night was

so dark that they must have been invisible at the distance of ten feet.

Not till they were safe among the trees did either speak a word; then

Will asked the Indian to stop. They looked back towards the house.

Several of the rooms were lit up, and broad beams of light threw a

ghostly radiance on the gardens around.

"Thank you, Azito," said Will in low tones.

"I did it, senor, not Jose," replied the man.

"Ah! what do you know of Jose?"

"We wanted, both of us, senor, to make a hole in the wall, but we did

not know where the senor was in the stables. Jose tried to find out,

but Senor Machado caught him."

"And where were you?"

"I was in the wood on the other side of the lake. I saw all that

happened, senor."

"Where is Jose now?"

"I do not know, senor. I did not see him come out of the house."

Will wished that his rescuer had been Jose rather than the Indian, for

the negro boy had been his servant for many months, and had often helped

him with the hydroplane. To find the hydroplane and set off in it to

Bolivar was the immediate duty of the moment. It would be no easy

matter to find his way to it in the dark, and he felt the lack of Jose's

guidance; but since it seemed impossible to have Jose, he determined to

do his best with Azito.

They had not gone far, however, when Azito remarked that when hiding in

the wood he had heard Jose cry out, as if he were being whipped.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" demanded Will, stopping short.

"It was so little to tell, senor," replied the man.

It was indeed a trifling matter to Azito. The Indians were accustomed

to being struck, sometimes in punishment for faults, sometimes in wanton

mischief and delight in witnessing pain. But it was no trifling matter

to Will, and remembering the Chief's suggestion that Machado had

captured Jose in order to discover from him the whereabouts of the

hydroplane, Will resolved to retrace his steps, go to the house, and at

least try to find out what was happening to the boy. When he told Azito

this, the Indian said the senor was not wise.

"It must be done," replied Will.

"I will go, senor."

"No, no; stay where you are. You have done enough. Lend me your knife,

and wait for me here."

He took the Indian's long knife, and having no belt, had to carry it in

his hand.

"Which room did Jose's cries come from?" he asked.

"A room in the front, senor."

This was awkward. In order to get to the front of the house he must

either go past the stables or make a long circuit through the gardens.

Since there were lights in the side of the house visible to him, it was

very probable that the rooms in the front were also lit up. This would

make it difficult to approach unseen, and he thought for a moment of

waiting until the lights were put out for the night; but he saw on

reflection that his chance of discovering the negro in the dark would be

very small. He decided therefore to make for the back of the house, and

to let his future proceedings be guided by circumstances.

As he left the shelter of the plantation he saw to his right the lights

of the camp, from which came a continuous hum. It was long past the

time for "lights-out" with any well-disciplined force; but discipline

was lax in the army of General Carabano, liberator of Venezuela. Will

moved along rapidly, keeping at a distance from the house until he had

assured himself as to the extent to which the back was illuminated.

There was a dim light in one room: the rest were in darkness. Then he

struck directly towards the house, avoiding, as he drew nearer, the

triangle of ground illuminated by the light in the room, and so came to

the veranda.

The general construction of the house was familiar to him through having

been several times the guest of De Mello. The rooms opened on to the

patio within, and several had doors of communication between them. The

only door to the outside besides that of the main entrance led from the

servants' quarters on the right-hand side looking towards the lake. De

Mello's own sanctum was the centre room on the left-hand side opposite

the stables. To reach it from the back of the house one had either to

go along the patio until one came to the door, or to enter from the

bedroom adjoining. It struck Will as probable that General Carabano

would have appropriated the private den of the owner, as it was

certainly the most comfortable room in the house, and convenient in

having the bedroom next to it. The important matter at the moment,

however, was not General Carabano's quarters, but Jose's.

Will stood in the darkness under the veranda, considering what he had

better do. He peeped into the lighted room: it was a small bed-chamber.

A candle-lamp was burning on a bracket. The next room was in darkness,

but the French window was open, and from the patio beyond came the

muffled hum of voices. Evidently some of the officers were taking their

ease there. Listening to make sure that no one was approaching, Will

stepped into the room, stole to the door, and gently opened it an inch,

so that he could see into the patio. It was cloudy with tobacco smoke.

Half-a-dozen officers sprawled in comfortable chairs, within easy reach

of small tables on which stood bottles and glasses. But Will could not

see General Carabano or Captain Espejo.

He felt himself at a check. Certainly he could not venture into the

patio; the room in which he stood did not communicate with those on

either side of it. He went out again: it occurred to him to try De

Mello's dressing-room, which was on the left-side of the house, next to

the bedroom. From the plantation he had seen that the bedroom itself

was lit up, but he did not remember whether there had been a light in

the dressing-room also. Stealthily creeping round the wall, he came to

the window of the dressing-room, and found that it was itself in

darkness, though a light came through from the bedroom, the door being

slightly ajar. He tried the catch of the French window: it was not

fastened, so that he could enter the room. His heart almost failed him

at the thought of the risk of being discovered, but having come so far

he was not disposed to return without making an attempt to discover what

had happened to Jose. He noiselessly opened the window and stepped in.

Now he heard muffled voices. He peeped into the bedroom: it was empty.

A lamp stood on a table. The door opening into De Mello's sanctum was

partly open, and it was from this room that the voices proceeded. There

being no sound of movement, he stole across the room on tiptoe and

peeped into the room beyond. A screen stood just within, completely

hiding the occupants. He now distinguished General Carabano's fruity

voice, and it suddenly flashed upon him that he might discover something

even more important than Jose's whereabouts. Slipping back into the

bedroom, he glanced quickly round to learn the position of the articles

of furniture in case he had to escape suddenly; then he turned out the

light and crept back to the door. The General was still speaking.

"The only doubtful point, Espejo, is whether we can time our attack from

the railway so that it is simultaneous with Colonel Orellana's from the

south-east. The Jefe at Bolivar has no doubt received the message

recalling the reinforcements that have just reached him--that is to say,

if your friend at the central telegraph office is as clever as you were,

Senor Machado. He has something to work for, and be sure neither you

nor he shall be forgotten when Caracas is in our hands."

"If any one can pull off your little plan, Excellency," said Machado's

smooth voice, "it is my friend Pereira."

"Good. Now this is the only doubtful spot." Will heard the crackle of

paper: the General had apparently unfolded a map. "Colonel Orellana

should be through the swamps south of Bolivar by mid-day to-morrow. If

our good fortune holds he may get close to the city unobserved. At any

rate, as he will be marching for the greater part of the night, his

movement will scarcely be discovered before the Government troops leave

on their return journey in the early morning. At that time Colonel

Orellana should be about twenty-five kilometres from the city. His

attack from the south-east will be commenced at noon, a good time to

catch them napping. If we start before eight we can run through in four

hours provided the line is clear, and I think we can trust the signalman

at the junction: he has too much at stake to fail me. The only doubtful

point, as I say, is here--Santa Marta. All depends on our surprising

the man there. How much of the line is visible from the station at

Santa Marta, Senor Machado?"

"About three kilometres, Excellency."

"A pity. If anything arouses the suspicion of the man there he can send

a message to Bolivar in a few seconds and wreck the whole scheme. How is

it he also is not a friend of yours?"

"His mother's cousin holds a good position in the administration,

Excellency."

"That place shall be yours when I form my administration."

"Is it certain, Excellency," asked Espejo, "that the bridge beyond Santa

Marta is mined?"

"I can trust my information on that point, and I am pretty sure that our

coup here has not leaked through, thanks to Senor Machado's friend at

the junction and our other precautions. There is one risk: that Senor

de Mello has given information. It was a bad mistake of yours not to

secure him, Espejo, and I am annoyed with you. But it cannot be helped.

The only thing wanted to complete the perfection of our arrangements is

to surprise the station at Santa Marta. How is it, Senor Machado, that

you cannot find the hydroplane about which we have heard so much? If we

had it, it would be quite easy to approach Santa Marta from the river;

they would think it was the mad Englishman on one of his jaunts. If we

could only capture the signalman there, and you took his place, we could

quite rely on your ability to keep the people at Bolivar from becoming

suspicious. I compliment you, senor, on your extreme ingenuity in

conducting the communications with Bolivar during the past few days. It

required a man of genius to prevent the railway people from smelling a

rat."

"You do me too much honour, Excellency," said Machado, his gratification

manifest in his tone of voice. "But I fear I can't keep it up for

another day. I have to make so many excuses and explanations; and from

the last two or three messages that have come through from Bolivar I

can't help feeling that the people there are becoming uneasy."

"The more reason for striking at once. Why can't you find the

hydroplane?" asked the General with some impatience.

"I have done my best, Excellency. I believe the negro knows where it

is, but he is a perfect mule, and neither starvation nor whipping has

any effect upon his stubbornness."

"Caramba! are there not other means of taming mules? Fetch the boy.

We'll see."

Will heard Machado rise from his chair and open the door leading to the

patio. Jose was staunch, then. Will set his teeth at the thought of

the ill-usage the boy had had to endure. His clutch tightened on

Azito's knife, and he scarcely heeded what passed between Carabano and

his lieutenant during the few seconds of Machado's absence.

"Here he is, Excellency."

"Ah! this is the mule. Now, mule, answer my question: where is your

master's boat?"

Will waited tensely: not a word came from the boy's lips. There was the

sound of a blow.

"Answer me," shouted the General, "or I will have you flogged. Where is

the boat?"

"I cannot tell, senor," said the boy.

"Dog, do you call his Excellency 'senor'!" cried Espejo; and again there

came the sound of a blow. "Where is the boat?"

"I have a thought? Excellency," said Machado suddenly, as the boy was

silent. "I will try the electric battery: that will make him speak."

"Caramba! you had better make him speak somehow, or I'll flay him alive.

Are my plans to be ruined by a dog of a negro? Take him away, and shock

it out of him."

Will quivered as he heard the boy cry out: one of the three had struck

him again. But Machado was dragging Jose from the room: where was he

taking him? Will did not know of the temporary cabin erected for the

telegraphist at the railway line a few hundred yards away: surely, he

thought, Machado did not intend to convey the boy at this time of night

to the old camp five miles distant. Yet he had seen no wire connecting

the line with the house. It flashed upon him that if Machado left the

house, and was not accompanied by any of the officers, an opportunity of

rescue might offer. Quick as thought he slipped across the bedroom into

the dressing-room and out on to the veranda. Running round to the back

of the house, he stood in a dark corner to watch. Presently he saw

Machado issue forth with Jose from the door in the servants' quarter.

The boy's hands were tied.

Machado dragged him across the garden towards the railway line. Waiting

a few moments to make sure that no one was accompanying them, Will

followed quietly, losing them from sight as they passed through a

shrubbery. He could not risk discovery by Machado yet, for a cry would

bring a crowd in pursuit. Quickening his steps, he saw the two

proceeding towards a cabin just below the railway embankment. A light

shone through a small square opening in the wall. Machado lifted the

rough latch, pushed his victim into the cabin, entered after him, and

shut the door. Will hurried to the unglazed window, and just as he

reached it heard Machado say--

"Has there been a signal?"

"No, senor," was the reply.

Peeping in cautiously, Will saw one of General Carabano's men, left

there, no doubt, to summon Machado if there should come a call on the

wires.

"Hold this brute," said Machado.

"What are you going to do, senor?" asked the man.

"Make a pig squeal. Now, you mule, one more chance before I prick you

with a thousand pins. Where is that boat?"

Jose was evidently terrified at the unknown torture before him. He

looked wildly around for a chance of escape, and struggled in the hands

of his captor, who, however, held him fast. Meanwhile Machado had

disconnected a couple of wires, and reached up to a shelf to take down a

bottle of acid for re-charging the battery. Clearly he was for no half

measures now.

[Illustration: ASSAULT AND BATTERY]

"What's that?" asked the man.

"Stuff to strengthen the battery," replied Machado. "I'm going to put a

wire on each side of him, and add cells--there are plenty of them--until

he owns up."

"Will it kill him?"

"I shouldn't wonder."

He laughed as he poured acid into the cell. Meanwhile Will had been

worked up to a white heat of indignation. Without stopping to measure

the risk, he slipped the knife into his pocket, sprang noiselessly to

the door, threw it open, and in two strides came within arm's length of

Machado just as he was replacing the bottle. A blow with the right, and

one with the left almost at the same instant, hurled the telegraphist to

the ground. The man holding Jose was for the moment paralyzed with

astonishment. Before he could recover himself, a heavy blow somewhere

about his middle sent him to join Machado. Then Will, catching Jose by

the arm, dragged him through the door and to the rear of the cabin,

where with one stroke of Azito's knife he severed the cords binding the

boy's wrists.

He had scarcely done so when he heard one of the men run shouting from

the cabin. But, as Will had expected, the man made straight towards the

house. Hurrying along the foot of the embankment for a few yards, Will

struck to the right towards the plantation where he had left Azito, both

he and Jose bending low to get what cover was possible from the long

grass and occasional bushes. Before they reached the plantation they

heard shouts from the house, which were soon answered from the camp some

distance to their left. They ran as swiftly as possible, and Will gave

a low whistle as he approached the trees. It was answered by Azito.

They waited but a few moments, to see whether any of the figures which

could be descried moving near the house were coming in their direction.

Then all three plunged into the depths of the plantation, Jose leading

in as straight a course as he could towards the recess where the

hydroplane was hidden.

Swift and Sure: The Story of a Hydroplane · 第 7 / 16 章