CHAPTER XVII
A Clue at Last
Those 40,000 victorious men of Wellington's great army now had theirbacks to the Portuguese frontier and were marching gaily on Madrid.Away in front a half-battalion of infantry watched for the Frenchand found no trace of them. The guard in rear had an easy time ofit, for attack was not to be feared from that quarter; while thecavalry patrols on either flank reported a country clear of all butpeasants. As for the road itself, it was littered with carts ofevery description, not the motor lorries which to-day have achieveda triumph, making light of the task of hauling the stores andimpedimenta of an army, but with mule carts in endless array, andfour-wheeled and two-wheeled vehicles with their teams of mules andtheir gaudily-hatted drivers.
"Of all the aggravating, lazy beggars these are the worst I ever seteyes on," growled Jack Barwood, in command now of Tom's compositecorps of Portuguese and Spanish; for that young fellow himself,together with Alfonso his cousin, had departed on special service.And didn't the great Jack give himself airs! Riding at the headof the corps he looked about him as does a conqueror. And thesemuleteers came in for his displeasure.
"Straggling all over the road as usual. How's one to pass here?" hedemanded of Andrews, who was marching beside him, and pointing to abatch of vehicles wedged in a rocky part of the road where a detourwas almost impossible.
"Move 'em, sir," came the answer, while the rifleman suppresseda grin of amusement. Jack was a favourite with them all, but hesometimes excited their ridicule. He was different from the steadyand yet dashing Tom.
"Move 'em, sir, or interview one of these blackguards conductingthe caravan. Look at the beggar nearest; stares at us as if wehadn't a right on the road, when we all know we're here to fight theSpaniards' own battles. Precious fine help they give us too! The onlytime they're out of the way is when fightin's wanted. Hi, you, youson of a gun, move along with you!"
The individual in question, a beetle-browed young fellow, whosehead was closely swathed in a brilliantly-red handkerchief, and whodangled his sombrero from one hand, squatted on the shaft of thenearest waiting cart, puffing a cigarette and staring with insolenteyes at the commander of the irregulars.
"Cheek!" exclaimed Jack. "The beggar looks at us as if we weretrespassers. Haul him up, Andrews; we'll give him trespassers."
Jack sought in the back of his mind for all the Spanish he knew andburst into an ungrammatical tirade when the muleteer was broughtforward by Andrews.
"Hi, you!" said Jack haughtily; "hook it, double quick! You'rekeeping the duke's own corps of irregulars. Sheer out with yourbothering carts or it'll be the worse for you."
That was the substance of his speech, a speech that brought asupercilious grin from the young man.
"_Si, senor_," he said, "but there is time; there is always time."
Jack gripped his meaning with difficulty, and then bubbled over withwrath. Had he commanded cavalry he would have been tempted to rideover the insolent fellow and his obstruction. As it was, he felt hecould thrash the man with his whip. But such action was out of thequestion. Jack fumed and raged, while Andrews grinned secretly. Asfor the Spaniard, he returned to his cart, finished his cigarette,and then gave the order for the group of vehicles to move forward.But as soon as the corps of irregulars had passed he sent a messengerto call its commander.
"Well?" demanded Jack haughtily, riding back, and meeting the manalone and well away from all others. "What fool's errand have youcalled me for?"
"Gently does it, Jack. Gently! I'll be frightened," laughed themuleteer, in the purest English. "How are things going?"
The young leader of the composite corps nearly dropped from hishorse, and then, bending low, stared at this stranger.
"I'm blistered!" he growled. "Am I standing on my head, or----"
"Don't get frightened," came the grinning answer. "It's Tom, rightenough. I'm glad we've met, for it proves my disguise to be good.Not one of the men recognized me, and I gave 'em every chance; evenAndrews was hoodwinked. How'll I do?"
A CLEVER DISGUISE]
Jack could still have been levelled flat with the proverbial feather,for his chum had been absent from the camp exactly a week, andAlfonso with him. It had been given out that they had ridden forOporto, and they had, in fact, taken the road for that place. Butsome miles from the camp both had stripped off their uniforms and haddonned the dress worn by muleteers, of whom thousands were employedwith both British and French armies. Then they had been joined bya faithful servant of Alfonso, one who accompanied him on thiscampaign, who handed over to the two lads half a dozen native carts,together with their teams of mules.
"He'll stable our horses away on Father's estate," explained Alfonso."We can stow our uniforms in two of the carts, and then, if we wantto change back to ourselves at any time, we have the things near us.Now?"
"Back to the camp," said Tom, "There we pick up four of ourfellows who were on the sick list till last week. They've beenreported as fit only for light duty, and so, at my suggestion, areto be allowed to continue with the army as drivers. They're trustyfellows, and may be relied on not to give us away to friends orenemies. Back we go, Alfonso."
As bold as brass--for the handkerchief swathed round the brows andthe wide sombrero hat were disfiguring and an excellent disguise--thetwo drove their teams into camp, and bivouacked close to Tom's ownregiment. And here they were, on the road, obstructing that samecorps, and causing the irate and lofty Jack to bubble over.
"Of all the blessed cheek!" he began to gasp, faintly recognizingTom. "You gave me an awful start. To think of you being alongsideus, giving me lip too. That beats everything. But----what's up?" hedemanded in a hoarse whisper, leaning over from his saddle. "What'sthis disguise for? And why march with the British army?"
Tom waved him away. "Look out," he said hurriedly. "Those muleteersare looking this way. Pretend to row me; threaten me with your whip.I'll sneak away in the usual Spanish manner."
Cunning eyes were, indeed, fixed upon them at that moment. A manamongst a batch of drivers passing with his team just then recognizedJack as the leader of irregulars, one with whom, had that youngofficer been able to guess it, he had already had dealings. But thescene immediately following disarmed all suspicion. Jack raged atthe man standing near him. His whip went up over his shoulder, andhe slashed out fiercely, cleverly missing his friend. As for Tom,he scowled and muttered loudly, while his hand went to an imaginarystiletto.
"Draw your sword and skewer him if he shows fight," shouted a cavalryofficer, also a witness of the scene, galloping up now. "Get back toyour cart!" he commanded.
Tom slank away, while Jack explained the insolence of the man,getting advice born of long experience.
"They're the biggest set of thieving, murdering rascals I ever seteyes on," declared the officer, "and would knife one as soon as eata dinner. I never allow 'em to answer. I'm fair and square and kindwhen things are right, but if there's disobedience, or treachery, orinsolence in the air, I go for 'em red-headed, red-headed me boy,and knock the courage clean out of the rascals. I know; I've been ontransport duty in this country in the early days of the campaign,and I've learned that firmness, and violence too, sometimes, arenecessary."
There was a grin of amusement on Tom's face as he returned to thecarts, while the seemingly sleepy eyes of his fellow muleteerstwinkled. Whether our hero and his cousin had embarked upon afool's chase or not it was impossible to say; but this was certain,occupying a false position as they did, where the piercing of theirdisguise by comrade or enemy would be equally disastrous to theirscheme, they still had everything in their favour. Those men wereoysters; not one knew anything. They had taken service with thechief muleteer, he with the bright handkerchief about his head, andthat was all. His name? No--that they had not heard. His age? Theyshrugged their shoulders. What did age matter in a country where timewas of no consequence? Then he loved the English? Another shrug.Perhaps; who could say? He had had a fierce altercation with one oftheir officers that ver
y day.
"A lucky meeting it was, too," declared Tom to his cousin, when theywere tucked in their cart that night, secure from eavesdroppers."Every muleteer with our troops will hear the yarn before to-morrow'sfinished, and that's just what we want."
"Want?" ejaculated Alfonso, with a lift of the eyebrows.
"Yes, want."
"But--why?"
"Because we've thrashed this matter out, haven't we?"
Alfonso assented, shrugging in his blankets because the habit was toostrong for him. "But," he said.
"I'll explain. There are spies about, stealing Wellington's papersand plans."
"Exactly."
"And strangers with the troops are few and far between, and getspotted precious quickly."
"Granted--then?"
"Then the spies are not strangers. They are to be found amongst menaccustomed to be with the troops, non-combatants of course; forsoldiers don't go in for such dirty business. So one looked round."
"And pitched on the only possible people--muleteers, the scum ofthe earth," declared Alfonso, with another shrug, which Tom foundstrangely disconcerting. Who ever heard of a fellow who must needsshrug his shoulders in bed and in the darkness?
"Drop that shrugging," he growled. "Upsets me. Well, there we are. Wepitched on muleteers. To watch 'em properly we decided to join themourselves."
"And here we are--not that I grumble," said Alfonso, beginninganother shrug and arresting it as Tom kicked savagely. "But rationsmight be more plentiful. Still, as you say, here we are; and here westay, I suppose."
"Till things turn up. I'm going to let it get about that we'rediscontented beggars. If there's a gang about, we may be invited tojoin. Who knows, through such a gang we might get hold of that fellowwho captured your father and mine?"
"Jose, eh?" asked his cousin.
"Perhaps."
"In any case the rascal we were after in Oporto, whose spy wecaptured going to Ciudad Rodrigo. That's the puzzle. We agree that itwas he who abducted our parents. But is he also Jose, and if so, orthe reverse, is he associated with the ruffians who have been robbingthe dispatch box of his lordship, the leader of this army?"
There the puzzle was laid out in all its bareness and meagreness.There were links missing in the chain of flimsy evidence; but thiswas certain, both lads had lost a father while Jose was in thecountry.
"Heigho! We'll leave the matter and get to roost," sighed Tom, fordriving a team of fractious mules is no light task. "Things are goingwell, that's all. Something'll turn up presently."
He was a cheery, optimistic young fellow, and soon dropped asleep;for worry was of no use to our hero. The following day found him justas cheerfully helping the British army in his new and humbler way toadvance to conquest. For Madrid was the goal; those three victorieshad, in fact, opened up the heart of Andalusia. Ciudad Rodrigo andits capture against strenuous difficulties had shown the French thatwe were out for business, and the fall of Badajoz had set a laurelabout the brows of the British regiments. None doubted now that evenwhen skill did not count, bull-dog courage was one of their cherishedpossessions. Moreover, Salamanca had cast a shade over the Frenchinvaders of the Peninsula. Almarez, and the destruction of thoseforts, the bridge, and the vast stores of the enemy were but anincident, if one of utmost importance, in this third victory; thatweek of crafty manoeuvring near the road to Ciudad Rodrigo, with itsattendant little actions and skirmishes, but a forecast of what wasto follow. It was the stand-up fight in the open, when British troopshad been exposed to veterans of France, led by noted strategists,when our brave fellows had smashed the power of Marmont--and bymanoeuvres vieing his in skill--that helped to send the enemyrightabout, their faces set in the direction of France itself. Thegreat king of Spain fled his capital. This Joseph, brother of theGreat Napoleon, the "Little Corporal," so fond of placing membersof his own family on the thrones of Europe, had departed in hastefrom Madrid, while Soult marched to join hands with Suchet. Therewas evidence that the enemy were less assured than formerly. Therewas a decided inclination for forces to co-operate; for the lessonSalamanca had taught was salutary. The British troops were worthy ofa greater respect than had hitherto been accorded.
And so for a while we may leave Wellington and his army, satisfiedthat the conduct of affairs would be always careful. Our interestturns naturally to Tom, sleeping then beside his cousin.
For three days they continued to march with the troops, and eachsucceeding one found them better acquainted with their fellowmuleteers, and already earning the reputation of being discontentedfellows.
"Then you find fault with the work?" asked a bulky, stiff-neckedSpaniard, with pock-marked face, who had once before accosted Tom.He it was, in fact, who had so cunningly watched the altercationbetween our hero and Jack Barwood.
"The work? That is good enough as work goes, friend," Tom answeredsulkily; "but had I my way I would be back there at home lolling awaymy time. Who wants to work, and for these British? And then, think ofthe pittance we earn."
Tom was romancing with a vengeance, for if anyone liked work it washe. To be idle with him, as with the majority of decent fellows, wasto be supremely miserable. As for the pay, a British army has thereputation of being liberal, and Wellington's was no exception.
"Ah!" exclaimed the bull-necked fellow, leering cunningly at Tom, andexpectorating to a distance. "The British! I hate them as I hate theFrench. But as for pay, there are ways of getting rich even when oneis only a muleteer."
Tom pricked up his ears instantly. He had taken note of thisthick-necked, stumpy fellow before, he with the pock-mark face, aface which even if it had not been marred by disease would still havebeen the reverse of attractive.
"Getting rich? How?" he asked.
"Ah! That's telling. But there are ways, easy ways, ways unknown tothe others."
"And there is good money in it, my friend?"
"Doubloons in plenty, I tell you," came the slow answer, while theman looked about him craftily.
"Come to my wagon," said Tom, at once, anxious to allay anysuspicions, and prepared to lead the man on. For here might besomething in the nature of a clue. "I have a friend there who alsowould make money, if it is to be made readily. There is danger?"
"Poof! Who thinks of danger when there is gold?" exclaimed theman loftily, though the flicker about his eyes belied his vauntedcourage. "I will come gladly. You have a bottle of wine, perhaps.That would be interesting."
Tom had a bottle of excellent stuff, as a matter of fact, and hadobtained it with a view to a possible meeting of this sort. And,after all, the offer of a good glass of wine on a campaign such asthat of the Peninsula was often more binding than a greater service.It followed that, within ten minutes, the three, this muleteer, Tom,and his cousin, were as bosom comrades, while before the fellow lefthe had made a cunning appointment.
"Listen," he said, staring about him. "To-morrow we come to the cityof Madrid. There I have friends, and you will meet them. I will giveyou the time and place of meeting. There you shall learn how moneycan be earned, and with such a spice of adventure about it that youwill be charmed. Look for me to-morrow, then."
"On the track at last," murmured Alfonso breathlessly when the manwas gone. "You think he is one of the gang, Tom?"
"Certain. Can't say, of course, that he has had anything to do withWellington's papers; but I guess that's the case. However, we shallsoon know that. Still, this is equally certain: whatever this workmay be, and spying has something to do with it, it's the meresttoss-up that it can have any connection with our governors. Oporto'sa long cry from Madrid; Badajoz ain't much nearer."
Late on the following evening the troops reached the outskirts ofMadrid, where Tom and his cousin parked their carts and secured theirmules in the mule lines.
"You will look after things while we are gone," said Tom, addressingone of the men with them. "We have information which takes us intothe city to-night perhaps. That information might possibly keep usabsent from the camp for some days, s
o do not be alarmed if we do notreturn. Carry on as if we were still present."
An hour later the rascally-looking muleteer put in an appearance, andpromptly cast his eyes upon the bottle of wine nestling in a cornerof Tom's cart.
"A fine evening, one on which you will pave the way to a fortune," heleered. "But hot, infamously hot; these August days are always sultryin this country."
Tom poured him out a glass, and watched with feelings of loathing asthe fellow gulped down the fluid. He was a scoundrel, of that he wassure, a thick-headed scoundrel to be so easily duped. For here he wasabout to introduce two comrades, of whom he had but little knowledge,to a group of conspirators perhaps, and in any case to someone ableand willing to pay for work not as a rule performed by muleteers.What was that work?
"Spying--dirty work anyway," our hero growled to himself, for thething was as foreign to his open-air, straightforward character as itcould be. "But for the time being, at least, I'm prepared to be asgreat a spy and conspirator as any."
"You are free to come?" leered the fellow, looking askance again atthe bottle. Tom took the hint and refilled the glass.
"Yes," he said coarsely, handing the wine over.
"To the city?"
"Anywhere where gold is promised."
"And the danger?"
"Pooh! Are we not under fire often?"
"Then come."
"But where? The city is a big place."
"It is; but there are cribs where a man may hide. There we shall findour chief. Young like you, yes, young; but cunning, clever as theymake them; keen, yes, sharp as any needle. Where? Ah, that wantstelling! You wish for fortune. Then wait for it till the time comes.I am here as a benefactor."
Was he foxing? Was this crafty fellow luring them on? No--a thousandtimes no. The whole transaction had been so spontaneous.
Tom looked across at Alfonso and found no warning glance in his eyes.His Spanish cousin was as eager as he; he had no fears of a plotagainst them.
"Ready then," said Tom, as he felt the dagger beneath his waistcoatand the pistol thrust into the leg of his boot, for he was seated onthe shaft of the cart. "We put ourselves in your hands."
"Then come."
Watched by the eyes of the other men who had accompanied them, Tomand his cousin went off with their companion and were soon withinthe city, for the place had opened on the arrival of the British.Plunging into a side street, they wended their way towards thelower quarters of the city and were soon threading narrow alleyswith noisome slums on either hand. Then their guide turned into adoorway and tapped three times sharply. Once more he gave his signal.Scurrying feet were heard. Stairs groaned and squeaked beneath adescending weight. The door was dragged open on rusty hinges.
"Enter--how many?"
"Three."
"Then enter."
Led by the one who had opened the door, and next by the rascallymuleteer with whom they had scraped an acquaintance, Tom and hiscousin entered the narrow, dark passage. They climbed the samegroaning, squeaking flight of stairs, and then plunged into a roombut dimly lighted. Ten men were present, a full ten, seated about arickety table.
Who were they? Conspirators? Yes, without doubt. Was Jose there?Impossible to say. Then any other they could recognize? No--yes.
Tom's eyes pierced the flimsy disguise of one of the men present. Itwas the selfsame rascal captured outside Ciudad Rodrigo, whom he hadimpersonated, a spy then, and one now, one, moreover, whose sharpeyes might easily penetrate his own disguise and bring a hornet'snest about him.
"But it's duty," he murmured softly to himself, as he took a seat."Wellington's orders must be obeyed. I'm here to unravel a plot andmake an end of a set of ruffians who are a nuisance and a danger tomy countrymen."
Yes, it was duty. But the risk! Tom and his cousin had still tofathom its depth, had still to face the consequences of this rashvisit.