CHAPTER XXV.
THE SPY OF CARACAS.
Immediately after the victory at La Victoria our three Americans wereforced to part with Francisco, who was to return to the capital withGeneral Castro, while they were called to Don Isadora's estate, theowner thinking he had got on the track of a clew to the whereabouts ofMrs. Rand. The don received them with open arms, he having fullyrecovered from the effects of his wounds, but the errand provedfruitless, and they felt obliged to abandon the quest in this vicinity.
So they again found themselves in La Guayra. But their stay here wasshort. Ronie was anxious to get to Caracas, that he might consult withMr. Bowen, to see if nothing could be done by him toward finding hismother. General Castro was also to join with him, and altogether hefelt very hopeful, though aware that his mother might be beyond hispower of help before this. But he was a brave youth, and he resolvedto do all he could and hope for the best.
It has been said that the capital of Venezuela, while only five milesinland from its port, La Guayra, is situated in the mountains, threethousand feet above the seashore. The railroad which connects the twocoils about this rugged ascent like a steel lariat thrown by a dextroushand, now winding in and out where some bottomless abyss is encircledlike a huge letter U upon the landscape, or anon clinging upon the rimof some sharp-pointed rock, where the same train creeps around theangle, showing mortal fear by its snail-like pace. Another has aptlycompared it to a spider's thread strung from crag to crag. Time andagain the engineer can look back from his cab into the windows of therear coach, while between him and the object of his gaze yawns arock-walled well hundreds of feet in depth.
The young engineers were standing on the rear platform, watching withadmiring gaze the wild scene stretching away from their feet.
"Isn't it grand, magnificent!" exclaimed Harrie. "I never saw itsequal. Did ever you, Jack?"
"Nothing to surpass it, lad; not even the Alpine Pass of the Colorado.Where can one find a grander combination of sea, plain, valley andmountain? And whoever saw a greener plain on a bluer sea?"
"Or a sky quite as serene," added Harrie.
Ronie was fain to agree with his enthusiastic companions, while theyadmired together the rugged panorama falling away from them to thefoothills trending from the base of the mountain like the huge roots ofsome great tree which had burst from their imprisonment in the earthand stood out as the bold supports of the mighty burden they upheld.Between these ridges, or leaping from their gnarled sides in silverycascades, numerous streams of water made bright bands on the backgroundof gray and dark green. Below the mountains, groves of royal palms,standing with park-like regularity and so far apart that their whitetrunks shone like pillars cased in silver foil, were to be seen. Outfrom among these gleamed the white and yellow roofs of the cottages ofthe people. Beyond these glistened the white line of breakers, forevercoming and forever going, leaving only a chalk mark to tell where theyhave been but will never be again. Outside of this lay old ocean,throbbing under the hot, fierce tropical sun like a hunted creaturepanting to get its breath, but never resting.
Still up, up, crept the iron conqueror, until it broke the veil of mistin cloudland, up where the trees were jeweled with dewdrops and thetrack reeked with the wine of the sky. At one place they could lookdown into three thousand feet of space, and soon after their sight wasgladdened by the view of the valley on the other side and the thricewelcome sight of Caracas. Again they were pleased by the happyblending of art and nature, the beautiful country, the basin under itsstupendous rim, the city marked by the towers of its numerous churches,the dazzling roofs of public buildings, the regular streets lined withpicturesque cottages, the gardens of white houses of the coffeeplanters, and beyond more mountains.
Caracas was founded by Diego de Losada in 1567, and named the "City ofSantiago de Leon de Caracas." The picturesque valley which forms itssite was the capital of the heroic tribe of natives known as "thepeople of Caracas," which name was very appropriately given to thecapital of the race which after two hundred years of warfare succeededin annihilating the original owners of the soil. This long struggleagainst the stronger power by the weaker forms one of the most gloriouspages in South American history, and scintillates with deeds of heroismand human sacrifice.
Now the ascent has been made, they find that the city is overlooked bymountains smooth and bare of trees, but covered with a light-greensward, except where some stream affords a band of a darker tint. Theclouds seem of more than northern fleeciness, and hang over the peakslike smoke, or float lazily from valley to valley, giving varying huesto the beautiful landscape. The climate is delightful; the firstimpressions of the capital pleasing.
Caracas has a population of about eighty thousand, it being the usagethat only one family shall occupy a house. It is a city of culture andfashion, of public statues to scholars and artists, as well aswarriors, for not all of the history of this interesting republic isfilled with war. While a land of hotheaded people, whose career hasbeen largely filled with riots and revolutions, here and there are tobe found evidences of a high civilization, producing marked contractsof the rival forces of man.
What struck our energetic American as unexpected was the air of reposewhich rested upon the scene, giving little hint of the excitementreigning outside. Slowly along the streets, as if there was nooccasion for haste, moved trains of mules bearing on their backs bagsof coffee, or quite enveloped under huge bales of fodder, which had theappearance at a distance of some huge, lifeless bulk upon legs. Thenthere were bodies of foot soldiers, wearing blue uniforms with scarlettrousers and facings, also moving with a deliberation which at leastbespoke their importance. This sight was enlivened by the appearanceof an open fiacre whirled along the street by a pair of small but fieryhorses, driven by a coachman from his high box seat, the gold trimmingsto his hat and coat rivaled for brightness by the ornaments on his topboots. Evidently the carriage bore some person of importance in hasteto his destination.
The cause of this undue haste, as well as the disturbance of theequanimity of this everyday sight, was explained by the sounds ofanother party approaching. Then, as the travelers upon the streetsmoved with unaccustomed celerity to one side, a body of men mountedupon high-stepping horses, strikingly caparisoned and carefullygroomed, appeared in sight, the riders presenting a bold effect intheir uniforms of white duck and high black boots.
"The president's bodyguard," said Ronie. "General Castro and histroops have returned, and we have got here just in the nick of time."
"There is the general riding in the center," declared Harrie. "How thepeople are cheering him! It cannot be that they knew of his coming sosoon. Shall we follow them?"
"Perhaps we might as well," said Ronie. "I suppose Francisco is in thetrain somewhere. Ay, look, boys! there he comes. Doesn't he lookfine? He has the natural military bearing of his race. Well, I amglad of his good fortune."
With these words Ronie began to move along with the crowd which hadquickly collected, and cheering lustily began to surge ahead in thedirection taken by the martial train that now moved along the streetfarther than they could look. It was not long before they foundthemselves surrounded by a jostling, but good-natured, mob, each memberof which seemed determined to keep in sight of the marching column.The band had now begun to play, and as the strains of martial musicfilled the air, Ronie Rand was conscious of hearing a voice mutteringin a deep, sullen tone:
"Curses upon him! His triumph shall be short. Soon shall the sonsof----"
The rest, if spoken aloud, and the words given seemed to have beenuttered involuntarily, were lost to our hero, but he caught his breathat what he had heard. It was not the import of the words, but the toneof the speaker which caused such emotion that he could constrainhimself with difficulty from trying to break through the mob and findhim. It was the voice of Manuel Marlin, of San Carlos!
So satisfied was Ronie of this fact that he immediately tried to pushhis way forward so as to r
each the man, whispering for his companionsto follow. But people in a crowd like that give away slowly, when theycan, and when Ronie had reached the spot where the other must have beenat that time he was missing. Nor could he find any trace of him.
"I am sure it was he," he said to Harrie and Jack, as soon as heexplained his sudden action. "But he has slipped away from me."
"Let's keep along. He will doubtless follow the throng," said Harrie.So they moved with the spectators toward the most notable building inCaracas, the Federal Palace, which is built around a great squareoverflowing with flowers and fountains, and lighted by swingingelectric lights. The palace is lightly built, and though painted inimitation of stone, looks like an airy castle which might be blown overat the next flaw of wind. It is profusely ornamented with statues madeeither of plaster of Paris or of wood painted so as to imitate marble.If this gives the building an unstable appearance and given over tofrivolous amusements, it is in keeping with its environments, thehigh-colored walls and open fronts of the adjoining buildings that helpto fill this American Paris, and it is by all odds the handsomestbuilding in the city. And, rather than given over to scenes offrivolity and mimic life, here are the chambers of the two branches oflegislature, the different offices of the department of state, and thereception hall of the president, in which is the national portraitgallery. The dome of this chamber, which is two hundred feet inlength, and bears many pictures of warlike scenes, is painted with apanorama of life-size figures depicting the last battle of theVenezuelans against the Spaniards. It is really a work of artisticmerit. So, altogether, the Federal Palace is a building of substantialbusiness, and it has played an important part in the shifting affairsof the republic.
To Guzman Blanco, more than all others, does the city owe these publicbuildings. These were originally convents or monasteries, until Guzmanoverthrew the power of the church. The Federal Palace was one of thesechurch buildings, so was the present opera house and the university.All of them seem well located for their new uses, and go to show thatthe church must have had a strong hold on the wealth of the capitalbefore this daring adventurer overcame them.
Anxious to get sight of this spy, if possible, Ronie and Harrie did nottry to get in so as to witness the president's reception, though Jackdid so, in the hope that he might find the man if he should dare toremain with the crowd. But the rest of the day passed, however,without bringing success to them, and the two young engineers werestanding near the entrance to one of those cathedrals which form suchan important portion of the buildings of the capital. They had barelygained a position where they could watch the comers and goers withoutbeing noticed themselves, when they were glad to see Captain Franciscode Caprian approaching, with their old-time friend, Jack Greenland.
Naturally, the countenance of the first was radiant with joyousexcitement.
"It has been a great day for Caracas," he said. "President Castro hasreason to be proud of it, as nothing has happened to mar its perfectharmony. Yet there is a rumor afloat--I know not how it gotstarted--that there is a secret enemy in the capital, a spy, waitingfor a favorable chance to strike a deadly blow at the hero himself."
"I suppose efforts will be made to capture him?" said Ronie.
"Be assured of that. A handsome reward is offered. Oh, they will gethim, soon or late."
Then a sigh escaped the lips of the handsome young officer, and hemurmured to himself rather than to his companions:
"I would, dear father, you might have been spared to witness this day,for I believe you would have rejoiced with the rest of us." Then,suddenly remembering his companions, he said: "Forgive me, senors, butto me these very shadows of this building are sacred. It was here, inthe last revolution, my dear father, with nine others, made their finalstand and fought so good a fight that it was found necessary to build afire in the tower and smoke them out with the fumes of sulphur. Ay, itwas a desperate test for the ten," said Francisco, while his dark eyeslighted with an intense light and his thin hand quivered spasmodically.
"Did your father and his friends perish?" asked Harrie and Ronie, bothdeeply interested in this simple narrative.
"It was their only alternative, senors, for to yield meant death andtorture. Father, let it be said to his credit, gave his companionsopportunity to surrender; but, let it be said to their credit, theystood bravely together. Then, their last shot spent, and the fumes ofthe drug rapidly overpowering them, they threw themselves from thetower into the street. It is said they went downward to their fatewith clasped hands. I am glad I did not witness the sad sight. But Ibelieve a brighter day is dawning for poor Venezuela, and that herbrave defenders did not give their lives in vain."
Our three friends were deeply touched with this pathetic story, relatedin such gentle tones as to make it seem like some sweet vision ratherthan one of grim war's bitter sacrifices. Looking beyond their heroiccompanion, they were struck with the peacefulness of theirenvironments, so well in accord with the manner of the speaker, alltending to soften the tragic interest of the scene of warlike andheroic action. Where the ill-fated band of patriots, the last to makea stand at that time, must have fallen, ran the sunken rails of thetram cars, and in sight were the notion shops and confectionery stores,where laughing, prattling children were wont to come to find the simpletoys and playthings to amuse them. At nighttime electric lightsilluminated with their dazzling splendor the now peaceful scene, whileseekers of religious promises wended their way softly in and out of theold cathedral.
"I am afraid I have made you sad, senors, when there is so much to makeone happy. But I forgot that this is not for you, and that your heartis heavy, Senor Rand, over the fate of your poor mother. Let us hopeyou, too, may soon find your cup of joy full to overflowing."
"Have you heard how Colonel Marchand is?" asked Harrie, seeing thatRonie did not feel like replying to their friend.
"He is likely to recover, but his campaigning is doubtless over untilsome time in the future. Come, senors, I shall insist that you stopwith me to-night, and it is time you seek rest."