HOW THEY WENT IN.
The battlements and towers of the old fortification stood up grimly
against the clouded heavens when Roderic drew near--just as they had
reared themselves for centuries, and looked down upon many of the
strangest scenes marking the history of new America.
Roderic had considerable respect for antiquity, and yielded the palm
to none when it came to holding in reverence such wonderful mementoes
of the past; but common sense triumphed over such feelings, and
when necessity demanded that he should push the sanctity of age and
tradition into the background, he never hesitated.
Should the success of his avowed undertaking be in peril he would feel
it incumbent upon himself to walk roughshod over the range and even
destroy if necessary the finest and most venerated relic of olden days.
Such is the price of American progress--a musty disease breeding old
palace must be transformed into a modern hive of industry or be leveled
to the ground in order to make way for some edifice of more value
to humanity; for these Americans are a practical people of to-day,
seeking not to perpetuate the evils of the dead past, but to raise up
the masses to a higher plane where they may enjoy the fruits of their
labor, reap the benefits of free education and worship God in their own
way, irrespective of church and state.
It was well known to Owen that Spanish sentries, Mauser in hand,
patroled the walls and corridors of the old building.
He had even marked as minutely as possible where each soldier's beat
began and ended, for it is such little things as this that count in the
long run, often most unexpectedly.
It appeared to be a formidable task for one American to
undertake--seldom had a heavier load been placed upon a single pair of
shoulders; but fortunately this man was singularly well equipped for
the task, since his previous work for years had always been in this
same line.
He therefore viewed the great ragged pile of ancient masonry, over
which the banner of Castile and Aragon flapped in the night breeze,
with something of the gladiator's spirit when he was wont to face a
tiger in the arena--the immensity of the task aroused every atom of
determination, quickened his blood and caused him to feel an eagerness
to open hostilities.
All seemed quiet.
Not far away lay the great barracks of the Spanish soldiers, and he
could even hear them call out at times.
This lent additional piquancy to the game--when it became necessary to
snatch a condemned prisoner from the very heart of the Spanish camp,
the glory attending success would be all the greater.
Not that Roderic sought additional sources of danger--he would have
been satisfied with much less, since his one purpose was to save Leon
and win his sister.
A clock in the city boomed the hour.
"I am on time--now to see if my fellow laborer has reached the
rendezvous," Roderic muttered.
At one point the shadow of the corner tower fell athwart the white
road and here he turned.
A little birdlike trill greeted his ears--it might have proceeded from
some feathered songster ensconced among the leafy vines that covered
the rugged wall, and which had been disturbed by his stealthy advance.
The American seemed to believe otherwise, for he quickly imitated the
sound.
Whereupon there appeared a figure from behind a buttressed base of the
tower wall, a figure that approached him at first eagerly, then coyly.
Roderic took several steps forward to meet the half unwilling advance
of the other.
"Senora, is it you?" he whispered, eagerly.
"Si, senor," came the low reply from the figure dressed in masculine
garments.
"Good. We are both on time. The night favors us as much as we could
hope for. Let us then go to work without delay."
"Heaven bless you, senor--"
"Not a word in that line--it is useless, and dangerous as well, since
sentries are on the ramparts and they have keen ears. I feared you
might not come, for the danger would appall many."
"Ah! senor, what is danger to me--what would I not risk if by so doing
I could save _his_ life, my beloved Leon? Fire and blood could not hold
me in check if _he_ called. My life is his alone, for without him all
else would be dead. That is the love a Spanish woman gives, senor. Do
not forget it when you think of Georgia."
Roderic was thrilled by her words, so intense so full of
devotion--yes, few nationalities can love with the fire and enthusiasm
shown by Spain's sons and daughters, and if their affection does not
always stand the test of time, lay it to the burning zeal that eats up
the heart.
He remembered that he too was beloved by just such an impulsive,
beautiful girl, who at this hour was doubtless wrestling with the deep
wounds wrought by jealousy's fingers; and the recollection gave him
both ecstasy and keen pain.
At least he said no more to her of the danger she ran--in the service
of love what matters it where peril lies; the sacred nature of the duty
renders every obligation a privilege.
"Follow me, please, and keep close to the wall. When I stop do likewise
and crouch down. Should one of the fellows on the walls call out, make
no move, utter no sound, but wait until I direct you."
Such were his brief instructions.
She gave him to understand that she comprehended all he wished.
Then they moved away, keeping close to the rough walls, where the
shadows lay thickest.
It was a slow and laborious task.
Here and there lay heaps of broken bricks, just where they had fallen
Heaven alone knew how many years back, since it is a settled Spanish
rule never to spoil the picturesque and _bizarre_ by miserable modern
attempts at thrift and cleanliness--vines had grown over the _debris_
and moon flowers whitened the face of the rough wall.
It may have been very pretty, but it made the task Roderic had marked
out more tiresome than it would otherwise have been.
He did not grumble however, and Inez would never have complained
even though compelled to creep through an acre of prickly pear or
cactus--her holy fervor of love sanctified the means, and she blessed
the Virgin for allowing her such a privilege to prove her devotion.
She was a woman in ten thousand--happy Leon, to possess such a loyal
heart.
Besides, while temporarily suffering from these accumulation of years,
Roderic knew they were soon to profit through something in the same
line.
Leon had escaped from his former prison by means of a gaping aperture
made by an inquisitive Yankee shell--the story of his thrilling
adventure had made a deep impression on the mind of Owen, and
discovering just such a grand opening in the wall of the old medieval
structure against which he had now pitted his forces he resolved to
improve upon the experience of Georgia's brother.
They could, if given half a show, both enter and make their final exit
by this means.
He had the location of the opening pretty well in mind, and was heading
for it now.
They had fully embarked upon their perilous mission, and please Heaven,
would sooner or later meet with the anticipated reward.
The sentinels paced their beats above on the broad walls, and their
"_quien vive_" as they approached each other, together with the answer,
came plainly to the ears of those crowded below.
Roderic breathed easier when he discovered that they had reached the
vicinity of this ragged aperture, for at least one portion of their
dangerous journey was over.
He exercised double care at this point, for while the coast had
appeared clear during the day, that was no sign that it might not be
policed after nightfall.
These Spanish sentries have little scruples about opening fire upon
any suspicious person seen in the act of endeavoring to enter one of
their fortifications under the protecting shades of night--scores of
wretched reconcentradoes in Cuba thus paid the penalty of rashness or
curiosity with their lives.
A little close observation told him that in all likelihood the opening
had not been made an especial object of surveillance--two slow moving
automatons, _yclept_ sentries, in the process of following their beats
to a conclusion approached this scene of wreck about once in five
minutes, exchanged salutation according to the discipline of the army,
indulged in a little good natured chaff, perhaps spoke of the chance
of soon beholding the beloved hills of their native land again when
the inevitable end came to the dramatic farce old Spain was playing
for the benefit of those Frenchmen and others holding five hundred
million dollars worth of Cuban bonds--and then wheeling left the spot
to darkness and the bats for another spell.
It was easy enough to pick out the proper time to begin the climb,
but after once starting they found it a trifle more difficult to make
progress, for the material under their feet threatened to trip them up,
and several times one of them started some of the broken bricks moving
in a way that opened the possibility of an avalanche.
Thus they had gone but little more than half way when Roderic,
believing the time between the meeting of the sentries must have
elapsed, whispered to his companion to crouch down and move no more.
At this instant a dislodged brick fell with some little clatter down
the declivity, and the sound appeared magnified in his ears because of
its possible serious results.
A Spanish voice called out above, being answered from the opposite
side, and Roderic looking up could see the two sentinels plainly
outlined, as they stood peering into the gloom below, and indulging
in various speculations as to the cause of the sound that had reached
their ears.
It was a minute of intense suspense, for he had grave fears lest they
bombard the spot with broken bricks, in order to satisfy their minds
that no secret enemy lurked there.
Fortunately just at this moment a zigzag flying bat, creature of the
tropics, came whirring out of the gloom below, and actually knocked off
one of the sentries' hat, which unexpected incident caused considerable
hard words from the man who received the scare, and was greeted with an
equal amount of half suppressed laughter from the other quarter.
At least, since the hat was saved the incident might be set down as
closed--no bricks were fired into the chasm, for which Roderic was
devoutly thankful, not merely on his own account, but because he had
one under his charge for whose safety he held himself responsible.
When the two Dromios above had withdrawn and with shouldered Mausers
again sauntered down their several beats he whispered words of
encouragement to the shrinking form so close at hand, and bade her once
more follow his lead.
The venture proved a success, so far as their _entree_ was concerned,
for by the time Spanish eyes and ears again approached the broken spot
in the ramparts the two intruders had gained the corridor and were safe
within the walls.
This was only a beginning--the first step.
Around them stretched the massive walls of the ancient landmark, and
somewhere within their confines Leon was to be found.
Roderic never groped in the dark when there was a chance for light,
and he had used his utmost endeavors during the day in trying to locate
the prisoner.
One portion of the old fortification was literally a picturesque ruin.
It did not seem possible that even the easy going Spaniards would
confine a prisoner, condemned to be shot, to this antiquated wreck, for
there would be too much chance of his escaping, especially one who had
already proven so hard to hold as Leon.
This was of course mere speculation on the part of the Yankee, but
he had taken note of several facts that seemed to corroborate his
suspicion.
At any rate so strongly impressed was he with this idea that once
within the fortress he had no hesitation in turning to the left.
Possibly Roderic never had a more difficult task than the one now
confronting him.
The interior of the great pile of masonry was almost a sealed book to
him, the best he could do during the afternoon having given him but a
shadowy idea as to how it was constructed.
Of course most of it was inhabited only by bats and owls, a sombre
relic of past glories, which fact added to the confusion.
Sentries patroled sections of the place, just as had been marked
out for them--indeed, it was almost impossible to know when one of
these jack-in-the-box guardians might bob up serenely directly in the
intruder's path.
This fact kept Roderic's nerves on a tension; but the sensation was no
new one to him--he felt pretty much as does the hound held in leash,
and scenting the game near by.
Inez followed him closely.
She was "dead game" as Roderic more than once muttered to himself when
he noticed how she copied his movements.
Never did man have a more faithful and devoted spouse, ready to
undertake all risks for his sake--never did woman have a motive more
sacred to urge her forward to the rescue of one beloved.
Roderic knew he was enlisted in a good cause, and in his mind this
counted for much.
Their progress while laborious, seemed to be in the right direction.
Evidences multiplied to the effect that this wing of the fortress was
under surveillance, as though it contained that over which it was
necessary a guard should be placed.
Roderic had been in Russia--he had visited the historic pile of masonry
at St. Petersburg on the Volga known as the Fortress of Peter and Paul,
and had seen its numerous dungeons, its impregnable gates and the
wonderful methods in vogue among the troops guarding its walls.
Something about this structure in San Juan recalled the prison and
fort of Holy Russia--perhaps it was the gloom, the dark dungeons and
general funereal aspect of the place, for surely there could be little
comparison otherwise.
Occasionally the moon appeared and gave them some means of seeing what
lay ahead; but on these occasions they were compelled to lie quiet so
that their presence might not be discovered.
All the while they were progressing.
A labyrinth of masonry surrounded them, and Roderic had to bring to
bear many shrewd tactics in order to keep from getting lost.
His usual manner of doing this was simple and yet wonderfully effective.
When they came to a place where the passage forked, and it appeared
puzzling to judge which way they should turn, he did not decide hastily
but spent a little time in ascertaining whether one of the routes did
not show more signs of usage than the other, and in every case he found
a very distinct difference.
By following the passage in general use it stood to reason that he
would sooner or later reach the closed dungeon.
Through such tactics, employed with success by those Nimrods of the
forests in their search after game, Roderic had always been able to
accomplish tasks that were deemed next to impossible by others of his
craft, who governed their actions by antiquated rules lacking in common
sense.
It was evident that they had crossed the Rubicon--that their bridges
had been burned behind them.
Once discovered in the depths of this place and the chances seemed
twenty to one that they would never leave it alive.
Roderic scouted such a thought--he never allowed it to interfere with
his work--chances of failure were not to be taken as a factor in the
matter whatever--success must be the beacon held up to lure them on,
glorious success.
Such confidence brings wonderful results in all things, and would
account for some of the success attending his past.
A brilliant diplomat is compelled to be bold as well as sagacious.
To find Leon and bring about his release--to cheat the Spanish army of
a victim whom they expected to execute at sunrise--this was the mission
he had undertaken, and with the kind assistance of good fortune, added
to his tact, he meant that the harvest should be bountiful.