THE MASKED LIGHT.

  CONCLUSION.

  It was the enemy! we were completely trapped. The tables were turnedupon us; yet, even as the fight was lost, we won it. Shots crossed andrecrossed about me. One flash on my left showed me a man's face andthe glitter of a bayonet as he thrust at me. I struck it on one sidewith the muzzle of my gun, firing point-blank into him as I parried it.As he dropped back another leaped up, stamping on him to gain me. Hefired from the hip, and the powder singed my hair. I clubbed my musketand struck down at him, slipped on the bowlder, and down we crashed,clenched together, he, underneath, falling on his head twelve feetbelow. His arms relaxed and I rolled clear. By sheer instinct alone Ikept flat, for men were now leaping down, while the shrill whistle of aleaden hailstorm passed over me.

  For a moment I thought it was the end of us all; but out of the din Irecognized a voice on our right calling shrilly: Chloe's voice. Ourfriends were re?nforcing us from the ford. The attackers, caught on theflank, broke and fled. I rose up at last. The foot of the lighthousejust loomed faintly visible, and I saw the last of the enemy rush overthe dark heap and gain the shelter of the building.

  That dark heap was now linked to our position by a chain of dead andwounded men; their retreat had cost them more than the attack.

  We had not escaped scatheless. Seven men killed outright, and ninewounded. Before we had time to move a single man to a more comfortableposition, we were driven to the shelter of our rocks by a witheringfire which broke out from every window and loophole of the chapel.We clung to the lee of the rocks. The air was dusty with chips andsplinters of stone.

  As I at last recovered my wits, I found that some one else wassheltering under the same rock. It was Chloe, all breathless,disheveled, and wringing wet.

  "Take mine, capitan," she cried, on seeing me without a rifle. And shepassed me a handful of cartridges from the bosom of her dress. I loadedin haste, but Henrico began to roar above the din that not a shot wasto be fired. It was growing lighter every moment, and as yet the enemycould only aim by the line of the dead and wounded. But, for all that,the bombardment went on unceasingly.

  Chloe, her breath recovered, was, despite her crouching position,tidying herself to something more woman-like. I asked her for the news."Oh," she cried, "they found us, tumbled on us, but they paid!--one,two, three, four, five!" checking them off on her fingers. "Then weheard you. The sergeant knew you had been surprised--by the sound heknew. So, back came ten of us. He was just dying."

  "Ah," I said.

  "Yes," continued she, braiding her hair. "We all die; but I put mycrucifix round his neck. He said we were to come to you. So we lefthim."

  Suddenly she paused and listened eagerly, as if to catch some othersound in the rattle of the firing.

  "Listen also, capitan," she said, and pulled me close to her side wherewe could get a sight of the sea between two huge rocks. Faintly, weheard the unmistakable moan of a steamship's siren. It was the troopship! she was calling like some blind, lost thing for guidance.

  It was now between light and dark, yet to a ship in the open a shorelight would show boldly out at sea. The same thought moved bothChloe and myself. She rose to her feet to peer over the shelter, butsomething moved in me hotly, and I pulled her down on the instant andlooked over myself.

  Every window of the lighthouse vomited smoke and flashes. Above, thelantern still cast level rays on the screen. But no sooner had my eyefallen on the latter, than I cried out in dismay. A man was crawlinghand over hand on the wire and cutting down the sheet. Already a thirdwas hanging loose, and a section of light streamed seaward.

  Involuntarily I called out to Chloe and pointed out the sight. Quickas light she whipped up the rifle, but, as she pulled the trigger, Iknocked up the muzzle. And I could have done no other thing even if ithad lost all. It was a magnificent thing to see a man do; he was a deadman as soon as sighted, so near he hung to us. Chloe slipped in anothercartridge. In a second we were struggling for possession of the weapon.At the first grip I cleverly thrust her back on the rock with thebarrel across her chest; only for a moment, for, with a swift, sinuousmovement, she flung me sideways, and down we went, I underneath. Shehissed like a wild cat, her short upper lip held clear of her whiteteeth, and her eyes a depth of black and fire. I believe in her madrage she would have worsted me, but, as we grappled, the walls of thecreek fairly shivered under the boom of a startling concussion. A heavygun had been fired to seaward. The war ship had caught the trooper!Another and another explosion followed, and, at the sound, the riflefire dropped. A shout of triumph rang in the rocks and about us.

  We dropped the gun and peered over our rock, and saw a white flaglimply hanging from the lighthouse. The man on the wire was crawlingpainfully back to the other side. I could not help but start up andgive him a cheer with the whole of my breath.

  Chloe looked in my face, her black eyes big with wonder, a child again.

  "That's because he is as brave a man as ever carried a gun," said I.

  "Do the Americans always cheer an enemy?" asked she.

  "If he's brave."

  With that she leaped on to the rock, and, throwing back her head, senta shrill "huzza!" to the distant man, who had now gained the firmground. He turned and saw us, waved his hand and fled.

  All our men were streaming after Henrico toward the lighthouse, wherethe enemy sullenly filed out and flung down their rifles. Seventeen Icounted, all that remained of the strong command.

  Presently the doctors arrived from the cruiser, and began theirgrim trade on a flat rock. But the most evil sight was to see thelighthouse, forgotten by all, unblinkingly staring into the face of thenow open day.

  But the night's work had not been wasted by us, for by sunset we werehonored guests on the cruiser, with a passage home before us.

  Chloe had brought off in her uncle's boat the odds and ends from ourlodgings. The anchor cable was rattling on the deck, and at that weshook hands with her, and said good-by. She stood and looked at us,and we noticed she had put on her gala dress. Still she remained, tillGilbert suddenly cried: "Goodness, we've forgotten. But we'll send youour debt as soon as we get home to New York--never you fear, Chloe."

  "No! never," she cried, "not that; no money owing." She turned, her redlips open and eyes brimming; she stooped, kissed Gilbert in her arms!swung round, kissed me full and fair, and was gone with a flutter ofskirt and clicking of shoe heels on the brass ledges of the stair.

  The last we saw of San Jos? was a lonely boat and a woman waving andwaving till she faded in the dusk and distance.

  THE END.

 
Stanley R. Matthews's Novels