A RENDEZVOUS AT THE TOBACCONIST'S.
Some men have a passion for the uncertainties of chance--they delight
in wagering all they possess in the shape of filthy lucre on the turn
of a die.
Doubtless such inveterate gamesters might have found some satisfaction
in Roderic's position when, upon turning from the friendly balcony he
pitched himself and his fortunes through the open window of the house.
All was uncertainty before him, and the seventh daughter of a seventh
daughter would have found it extremely difficult to declare just what
turn fortune's wheel was about to take for him.
Roderic himself experienced no pleasure in this groping in the dark,
and would have been much better satisfied could he have known just what
lay before him.
However, there be times when one must accept philosophically whatever
favors the Fates choose to toss us as they go swinging past--times when
action is the only resource left, and even at that one needs be wide
awake in order to take advantage of the opportunity.
When he burst into the apartment Roderic heard a feminine shriek, but
his only thought was a door of some sort that would give him egress.
Fortunately he found this, more through good luck than anything else.
It brought him to a hall.
Few though the seconds had been since his departure from the balcony,
he could already hear the lusty blows that were being delivered upon
the door of the house, which, unless of far better material than the
average doors in San Juan must speedily succumb before the vigorous
assault.
This meant that should he descend to the lower strata in search of an
outlet by way of court or garden or rear exit of some sort he might be
just in time to be overwhelmed by the inflowing tide of eager hustling
citizens and soldiers.
At the same time it would never do to stand still and lose what little
advantage he had gained.
Perhaps even now some of his enemies were clambering up to the balcony,
since he had shown them the way.
Roderic had at least retarded pursuit from that quarter by closing
the door after quitting the apartment from whence the dismal shrieks
sounded in a high pitched female voice, and the others might not prove
so successful in finding the opening as he had been.
He knew the peculiarities of Spanish houses.
In all probability there was some means of reaching the roof, though
he hardly expected to find an _azotea_ with its flowers and place for
lounging, as in the better class of more isolated dwellings.
Thus it came to pass that Roderic found himself crawling through an
opening at the top of a ladder, and thus reaching the outer air.
His enemies were giving tongue with all the eagerness of a pack of
hounds, and the quick and thrilling pulsation of blows announced that
as yet the stubborn door had failed to yield before their vigorous
assault.
Just then, however, a crash followed by a chorus of whoops and much
laughter declared that success had finally rewarded their efforts.
Immediately the house would be swarming with the seekers after Yankee
blood--like rats they would dart hither and thither, leaving no stone
unturned in their eagerness to find that which was lost.
Roderic gave them his blessing.
He had surveyed the situation and laid out his plan of action like a
wise general.
It was necessary that he crawl over a number of roofs before he could
think of endeavoring to touch ground again.
This he managed to accomplish without discovery from the street, and
on the whole he had reason to be thankful that no curious eyes had
fastened upon him from neighboring buildings.
Meanwhile the searchers were having a merry time of it in the house
that had been made the object of their assault--it sounded as if Bedlam
had broken loose in that quarter, and the shrieks of the terrorized
maiden lady formed but a small proportion of the chorus that arose.
Roderic had found his opportunity to leave the roof and reach a
friendly deserted balcony.
From this to the ground was but a small undertaking, and he managed to
accomplish it with the utmost ease.
Thus triumph had followed his line of action.
He was now free to return to the plaza or seek the humble abode of his
friend, under the roof of which he could rest in peace.
This should apparently have been his first thought, but his action
indicated that it was far removed from his mind.
Not that he was in such a reckless mood as to invite a fresh attack
from these desperadoes of the San Juan streets--Roderic had simply
become impressed with a bright idea and was bent upon carrying it out.
He had not forgotten that a wonderful fortune placed him in
communication with the very girl whom he desired to meet--the only one
who could tell him where to find Leon de Brabant, because she had fled
with him and was in all probability his wife.
Such a golden opportunity should not be neglected.
Fortune had been kind but the same chance might not occur again.
To have a few words with her, to appoint a place of future meeting, was
the magnet that held Owen to the spot even when ordinary discretion
should have demanded that he leave the dangerous neighborhood post
haste.
It would not be the first time on record that a charming woman's
presence has nailed a man to danger's cross, and so long as the world
lasts will the story be repeated.
He did not believe there was much chance of his identity being
discovered, especially if he could avoid the keen eye of that same
Julio who had penetrated his disguise before.
In appearance he did not differ to any material extent from the
majority of those to be seen in the streets of San Juan.
Besides, all attention was at present centred on the luckless dwelling
that was being overhauled by a miscellaneous assortment of soldiers and
civilians. Some of these enthusiasts had even clambered out upon the
roof and were eagerly searching for the fugitive in that quarter.
Wise men have before this time been known to lock the stable door after
the horse was stolen.
Roderic was now among those who stood in the calle and chattering like
a collection of magpies, kept their regards fastened upon the wretched
house whose balcony had tempted the Yankee and thus precipitated
trouble.
His one thought of course, was the girl--had she flitted from the spot
because the clamor had alarmed her soul?
Perhaps she was not so unfamiliar with scenes of confusion, since her
father had been the governor of famous old Morro Castle, under the
walls of which many a remarkable event has occurred since the days of
the Virginius affair, when American filibusters were shot down by order
of the Spanish authorities.
At any rate she was still there, watching the house where so much
clamor arose, twisting and untwisting her little hands in nervous
anxiety.
Thanks to Roderic's vandal hand her pretty face was no longer screened
by a veil, and more than one rough soldier drank in the outlines of her
charming features with avidity.
She was evidently deeply concerned in the outcome of the search.
Roderic should feel flattered at this evidence of approval from so
sincere a source.
It was no time, however, to indulge in any foolish speculations, or
allow his masculine vanity a chance to arise.
Julio was still on deck, and since his eyesight was apparently as
sound as ever, despite his rough treatment at the hands of the Yankee,
it would be a wretched mistake to again come under his withering
observation, for on this occasion no friendly balcony might offer him
an asylum from the outstretched hands of the bolero dancer's excited
allies.
So Roderic approached the spot where stood the girl--he must exchange
words with her, no matter what the risk or the consequences--at least
it was necessary that some rendezvous be appointed where he could
engage her more fully in conversation.
With this set object in view he drew near, and watching his opportunity
whispered:
"Senorita--Leon's sister--turn this way!"
She must have heard him, for she immediately forgot to watch the house
that was being searched, and fastened her eyes on him.
Roderic, fearing lest she might by means of some unwise exclamation
draw Julio's attention to him, had a finger on his lips, indicating
caution.
He saw her start and knew she immediately suspected his identity.
Time was most valuable, and it was utterly out of the question for
him to learn what he desired while laboring under such serious
disadvantages.
Besides, it was folly to run any more risk than was absolutely
necessary, and with such a good hater as the dashing _bolero_ dancer
only three yards away, every second he remained there increased his
danger.
At any rate he could not blame Leon for falling in love with such
a charming creature as the governor's daughter--Roderic considered
himself a fair judge of beauty, even if he were not a connoisseur,
and he saw a vision of loveliness before him that might easily have
disturbed the sternest old anchorite.
Another thing--he discovered traces of distinct resemblance between
this girl and the handsome Julio, so that a suspicion as to their
possible relationship flashed into his mind.
"Never mind how I escaped--I am here to speak to you. My object in
entering this city is to find Leon--you must take me to him--it is
the price of my happiness with Georgia--when and where can I see you
again--appoint a _rendezvous_, I pray you."
This is what he said hastily almost in her pretty ear--she was quick of
comprehension, and by the look upon her face he knew she had grasped
the situation.
One glance she shot toward Julio, who just at the moment seemed deeply
engrossed with the antics of the men who were running over the roofs
like a lot of monkeys.
Roderic pressed even closer, eager to hear what she might say, since it
concerned his future state as connected with Georgia.
"At Senor Pedro Sanchez the tobacconist, on the Grand Plaza--at eight
o'clock--to-morrow--_Madre de Dios_ protect you, senor! Do not longer
delay!"
It was enough.
He knew he could find the place and keep the appointment. Her warning
was well timed too, for just as he turned away Julio came to her side.
It was a rare piece of good fortune that had kept him away thus long.
Julio seemed uneasy and suspicious--he even glanced sharply at every
one near by as though some inward monitor warned him he was being
outgeneraled.
The bystanders were to all appearances quite innocent of wrong
intentions, and he could not run after the man who walked away so
composedly, demanding that he then and there give an account of
himself--those in whose veins bounds the hot blood of Spain stand no
such peremptory challenges as that, and the answer just as likely as
not would be the drawn arm, the glint of polished steel, the thud of a
_cuchillo_ striking home--ugh! he wanted not of that sort.
Oh! yes, Julio knew all about this, for his education while neglected
in some other particulars was quite up to date when it came to the stir
and danger of war--he had been through many a little engagement himself
during his checkered career, and knew just what he would do under
similar conditions.
Wherefore his exceeding caution.
It was the development of this trait that had given Julio so long a
lease on life in spite of his many entanglements.
Roderic now made it his business to quit the stirring locality.
Little he cared to what lengths the mob went in their vigorous
search--they could tear the old town wide open; but he had good reason
to doubt whether they would receive any reward, since it was himself
they sought, and he had high hopes of continuing to avoid their
clutches.
The morning would find him on the plaza, with his eyes fastened
upon the tobacconist's jaunty little shop--did he not know it well,
for had he not many a time in the past loitered in that same queer
establishment, selecting prime weeds from Senor Pedro's carefully
arranged stock, and discussing the affairs of the universe with the
white bearded philosopher who guided the destinies of the rendezvous
where men met and formed plans and sought advice.
Ah! that was in the good days of long ago, before San Juan had heard
the deep growl of hostile Yankee guns, before it was a capital offense
to be known as an American in Porto Rico--halcyon days when Love's
brush painted all around him a rosy hue, when life's horizon knew no
cloud.
Since then he had suffered much, but thank heaven it seemed as though
the old state was about to once more come upon him, and gold is doubly
precious when refined by fire.
The clamor and confusion was left behind as he passed along various
narrow streets, heading once again toward the Plaza Cristobal Colon.
Minor things attracted him as in the happy past when he knew no
care--he even stopped where the sound of guitars announced some
entertainment under a canvas shelter, and found his old acquaintances
the gypsies in their weird dance, dark skinned sons and daughters of
the warm Sierra Morena valleys.
Other scenes, common enough in this section of the capital, drew his
attention, and he found a peculiar joy in watching two humble lovers,
he with his sturdy arm about the maiden's waist, strolling along just
beyond.
Well satisfied with what had come to pass on this particular night
Roderic reached the cottage home of his Cuban friend, and giving the
signal knock was admitted.
Wearied in body yet with a mind relieved from all care he sought and
found rest in sleep.
With the coming of morning he was astir.
Every one rises early in San Juan, for there is life and vigor in the
bracing air, a tonic that becomes a necessity to these people who live
in a semi-tropical region that has never known frost, and where midday
is stifling.
Roderic had more than ordinary reasons for rising early on this
morning--one can look with considerable pleasure upon that day whose
dawn promises to usher in the greatest blessing on earth for him, and
this was the extent of his hopes in connection with the governor's
daughter who had saved Leon.
When he issued forth he found that an unusual stir pervaded the town.
Some military movement was on the _tapis_, and he presumed that it
could only be one of considerable importance, judging from the bustle
that pervaded even this portion of the town.
Maneuvers were usually confined to those sections where the streets
were wider and a better class of citizens could enjoy the brilliant
spectacle; for no soldiers like appreciation more than those of Spain.
Curiosity might have led Roderic to look into this matter a little more
deeply, but just at present he had his time well occupied, and besides,
it mattered very little to General Miles what the soldier garrison of
San Juan did, since they were doomed to capture at no distant day,
squirm and struggle as they pleased.
Breakfast first, and this he secured at a cafe where many men had
gathered to drink their coffee and talk over the exciting events about
to transpire in the Antilles. They had no hesitation in expressing
sympathy with the American arms for this was not Cuba--even the Spanish
soldiers in Porto Rico had a leaning toward the Yankees--there was
far less bitterness shown than in Havana, for the people were more
independent. The sensation of liberty was in the air, and men seemed
to feel the new strength that was soon to make them a section of the
Western giant--they had known for some time what Destiny had in store
for Porto Rico, and patiently awaited the glorious dawn of that blessed
day, instead of the useless struggles of years, that would sap their
powers, and blight their beloved land, even as Cuba had been, with the
incendiary's torch and the bushwhacker's rifle.
The day for their reward was coming, and once the stars and stripes
had been planted on Spain's colony's sacred soil, it was there to stay,
whether that land be Cuba, Porto Rico, the Ladrones or the far away
Philippines.
It was now near the hour when he had agreed to meet the girl, so
Roderic made his way toward the plaza. While this place lacked much
of the charm that is always associated with myriads of lights, moving
gayly dressed throngs and stirring open air concerts, it was full of
people about this hour of the day since the summer sun would chase
people indoors long before noon.
He came down in the quarter where the quaint little shop of the
tobacconist was to be found, and kept his eyes eagerly on the alert for
a figure that would, as he remembered, remind him of Georgia's.