At the Point of the Sword

  CHAPTER XXII.

  THE "SILVER KEY" AGAIN.

  Since these events happened I have asked myself many times whether Idid right or wrong, and even now I scarcely know how to decide. Thosewho blamed me said I was Sorillo's guest, and should not have abusedhis confidence. Others urged that I was bound, if possible, to preventhim putting a man to death unlawfully. All, however, agreed that nonebut a madman would have embarked on so preposterous an enterprise.

  The idea occurred to me suddenly. The guerillas, split up into groups,had gone, some this way, some that, to watch the movements of theRoyalist troops. Sorillo had kept me company till we cleared the pass,when he, too, with a word of farewell, rode away. It was now dusk,and, as the chief had truly said, there was no time to waste; yet I didnot move. Right in my path, with outstretched arms and pitiful,beseeching face, stood Rosa Montilla. I knew it was but the outcome ofa fevered brain; yet the vision seemed intensely real.

  The girl's eyes looked at me reproachfully, her lips moved as if inspeech. I fancied I could hear again her parting cry, "O Juan, savehim!"

  I asked myself impatiently what more could be done. I had tried mybest and failed, and there was an end of it. Besides, the words of thechief rang in my ears in ominous warning: Don Felipe could not betrusted! To set him free was like giving liberty to a venomous snake;his hatred would now be all the more bitter in that he had struck andfailed.

  Why should I add to my father's danger? The fellow had tried to slayhim once; the next time he would make no mistake. I would make nofurther effort to help such a traitor; I would ride on. But again thebeseeching face of the girl stopped me, and again I was moved to thinkhow I could aid the miserable prisoner. Like a flash of lightning Ithought of the silver key. _That_ would unlock his prison door.Although I fully believed in Don Felipe's guilt, I remembered he madeno effort to defend himself. He would not admit Sorillo's right to tryhim. Before a lawful judge he might be able to vindicate his actionsin some way; at least he should have the chance to do so. Thusthinking, I turned back in the direction of the ravine.

  Half of the sentries, I knew, had been withdrawn to ride with theirchief, but the number on guard mattered little; the silver key was anall-powerful talisman. I rode slowly, not wishing to tire the horses,to whose speed and strength we might later be indebted for our lives.I thought, too, it would serve my purpose better to reach the ravine inthe dead of night, when the men would be sleepy and less likely to askinconvenient questions.

  I was stopped at the entrance to the pass, but not for long. TheIndians who had seen me ride out with their chief had no suspicion ofmy object.

  "Where is the chief?" asked the officer. "Have the Royalists got clearof the mountains?"

  "No; they are still in the defiles. But I am in a hurry; I have comefor the Spanish prisoner Montilla."

  Fortunately this officer had not attended the trial of Don Felipe, andSorillo was not the man to give reasons for his orders. My maindifficulty would lie with the sentry at the door of the hut, but I didnot think he would disobey the authority of the Silver Key.

  In any case, boldness was my best policy; so I clattered up the ravine,stopping hardly a yard from the astonished sentry.

  "Quick, man!" I cried, springing to the ground; "are you asleep? Openthe door. I have come back for the prisoner. Is he still bound?Good. Can you tie him to this horse so that he cannot escape?"

  "Yes, senor, if the chief wishes it. But, pardon me, senor, I have noorders."

  "Orders!" cried I angrily; "what would you? I have but just left thechief; and is not this" (producing the silver key) "sufficientauthority? Am I to tell the chief that he must come himself for theprisoner?"

  "No, no, senor; but I am only a simple soldier. I must not open thedoor unless my officer bids me."

  "He is below," I said; "we cannot pass without his permission. And Imust hurry, or it will be too late. Quick, drag the fellow out andbind him firmly on the horse; then come with me."

  The sentry had no inkling of the truth, and, never dreaming that hisofficer could be deceived, opened the door. Then the prisoner, whetherfrom fear or from cunning I could not tell, acted in such a manner thatno one would think I was helping him to escape.

  He refused to stir an inch from his bench, and kicked vigorously whenthe sentry tried to seize him. Then he yelled so loudly that theofficer came running up in alarm.

  "The bird has no wish to leave his cosy nest," laughed he.--"Give methe rope, Pedro, and get a gag; the chief won't want to hear thatmusic.--Now, senor, if you'll bear a hand we'll hoist him up.--Bestill, you villain, or you'll get a knock on the head.--Had not one ofmy fellows better go with you to guard this wild beast, senor?"

  Now, from the officer's point of view this was a very sensibleproposal, and one which I dared not oppose for fear of excitingsuspicion.

  So I answered carelessly, "A good thought, and I am obliged to you;though," with a laugh, "the prisoner won't be able to do much mischiefwhen you have finished with him."

  "No, indeed; he'll be pretty clever if he can get these knots undone,"replied the officer complacently.--"Now, the gag, Pedro. Quick, orhe'll spoil his voice in the night air.--There, my pretty bird! youshall sing later on."

  All this occupied time, and I was in dread lest dawn should breakbefore we left the ravine. Then we had to wait till Pedro had saddledhis horse; and I watched the sky anxiously. At last we were ready, andbidding Pedro ride in front, I took leave of the unsuspecting officer.

  "A safe journey," he cried. "I should like to know what Sorillo meansto do with the fellow."

  "You'll hear all about it when the troops return," said I, laughing andhurrying after Pedro.

  Thus far the venture, with one exception, had succeeded admirably. Theprisoner was out of his cage, and would soon be clear of the pass.Then I should only have Pedro to deal with. His company was anuisance, but it must be borne with for the present; later I shouldhave to find means to get rid of him.

  We rode slowly down the narrow path, Pedro in front, Don Felipe and Iabreast. The poor fellow was in a hapless plight. The gag hurt hismouth, and the cords cut into his flesh. Had we been alone, I should,of course, have done something to ease his pain; but as long as Pedrowas there, this was out of the question.

  "Anyhow, it's better than being shot," I thought; "and really thewretch deserves it all."

  We passed the sentries without trouble; but at the bottom of the passmy difficulties began again.

  "I suppose the chief has gone to San Mateo, senor?" said Pedroquestioningly. "That is the best place to watch from."

  This was an awkward question, as I had intended making a straight dashfor Lima; but it would not do to arouse the man's suspicions. We weretoo close to the mountains to run any unnecessary risks, and if Pedroshowed fight there, our chance of escape was gone.

  So I answered, "Yes," and rode along, wondering what would come of it.Every step led us into greater danger. We might run into the arms ofthe guerillas, in which event Don Felipe's fate was certain; or bestopped by the Royalists, when I should be made prisoner.

  Day was now breaking, and with the strengthening light I began to seeour position more clearly. It was not promising. We were farther fromLima than we had been when in the ravine, and were making straight forthe mountains again. Another half-hour's riding would cut us off fromescape completely. What could be done? There was no time to lose, andI must hit on a plan at once. The simplest and perhaps the only onelikely to be successful I set aside without a moment's hesitation. Notfor a dozen men's lives, my own included, would I harm the unsuspectingman whom chance had thrown into my power. I might, however, frightenhim into obedience. As far as I could see, it was that or nothing, andthe attempt must be made at once.

  So, with beating heart and greatly doubting what would be the issue, Iwhipped out my pistol, and, levelling it at him, said quietly, "Moveyour hand to your musket, and you are a dead man! do as I bid you, andno harm will
befall you. Leave your gun, get down from the saddle, andhold your hands above your head."

  In the circumstances it was a risky experiment, because if the manshould guess the truth I was entirely at his mercy. For him there wasno more danger than if my pistol were a piece of wood.

  "But, senor--" he began, staring at me in surprise.

  "Get down!" I repeated sternly. "It is my order. Don't waste time, orI shall be obliged to fire."

  Pedro was a brave man; indeed, all the Indians in Sorillo's band heldtheir lives cheap. He did not exactly understand what was happening,yet he seemed to think that all was not right.

  "The chief!" he exclaimed. "Does he--"

  "Get down!" I cried once more, brandishing my weapon.

  With a thundering shout of "The Silver Key! Help for the Silver Key!"he clubbed his musket and dashed straight at me, regardless of thelevelled pistol.

  One moment's pressure on the trigger and he would have dropped to theground helpless, but I refrained; instead, I pulled the rein, and myhorse swerved sharply, though not in time. The musket descended with athud; the pistol slipped from my nerveless fingers; I seemed to beplunging down, down beneath a sea of angry waters.

  How long I lay thus, or what happened during that time, I do not know;but I awoke to find myself beside a roaring fire, and to hear the humof many voices. A soldier, hearing me move, came and looked into myface.

  "Where am I?" I asked anxiously.

  "Not far from Lima," said he. "A few hours since you weren't far fromthe next world. How did you get that broken head?"

  I tried hard to remember, but could not; the past was a total blank.

  "Well, well, never mind," exclaimed the man kindly. "Try to sleep; youwill be better in the morning."

  With the coming of dawn I saw that I was in the midst of a large camp.Thousands of soldiers wrapped in their ponchos lay motionless beforesmouldering fires. Presently there was a blowing of bugles, and thestill figures stirred to life. Officers rode hither and thitherissuing orders, the men ate their scanty rations, the cavalry groomedand fed their horses--there were all the sights and sounds connectedwith an army about to march.

  Then the infantry formed in battalions, the horsemen mounted, buglessounded in numerous places; there was a cracking of whips, the creakingof wheels, and all began to move slowly forward. Soon but a few menremained, and it seemed that I had been forgotten.

  At length a man came to me. He was dressed in uniform, but his wordsand actions proved him to be a surgeon.

  "Feel better?" he asked. "Can you eat something? I can only give youarmy food; but that will fill up the hollows. Now let me look at thedamage. Faith, I compliment you on having a thick skull. A thinnerone would have cracked like an egg-shell. Don't try to talk tillyou've had something to eat."

  "Just one question," I said faintly. "Who are the soldiers just movedout?"

  "Why, General Canterac's troops. I see you belong to the other side.But don't worry; we shan't hurt you."

  "Then I am a prisoner?"

  "That's always the way--one question leads to a dozen, Yes, I supposeyou are a prisoner; but that's nothing very terrible," and he hurriedoff to procure food and drink for me.

  Later in the day he came to have another talk, and I learned somethingof what had happened.

  "We crossed the mountains almost without a check," he began. "TheIndians did us some damage; but they were only a handful, and we sawnone of your fellows."

  "But how came I to be here?"

  "Ah! that's a queer story. A party of scouts screening our left flankhad just reached the base of the mountains, when they heard a fellowyelling at the top of his voice. By the time they got in sight, theman had evidently knocked you down, and was off at a mad gallop."

  "Alone?" I asked.

  "No; that's the strange part of it. He was leading a spare horse whichcarried something on its back. Our men could not get a good view, butit looked like a full sack, or a big bundle of some sort. Theyfollowed rapidly, and were wearing the runaway down when the Indiansappeared in force on the hills. Of course that stopped the pursuit,and after picking you up, they came on with the army."

  My memory returned now, and I understood what had happened. Pedro hadescaped, and carried Don Felipe with him to the Indians of the SilverKey.

  "Poor Rosa!" I sighed; "it is all over now. She will never see herfather again. Sorillo will take care that he doesn't escape a secondtime."

  My thoughts dwelt so much on this that I took little interest in therest of the doctor's conversation. He was very jubilant, though, Iremember, about his party's success, telling me that in a short timeGeneral Canterac would be master of Callao, and that the Patriots hadnowhere the slightest chance of victory.

  "What will be done with me?" I asked.

  "I shall send you with our sick to the hospital at Jauja. The airthere is bracing, and will help you to recover more quickly."

  "Thank you," I said, though really caring very little at that timewhere I was sent.

  Next day I was placed with several Spanish soldiers in an open wagon,one of a number of vehicles guarded by an escort of troopers. Myfriendly surgeon had gone to Lima; but I must say the Spaniards behavedvery well, making no difference between me and their own people.

  As to the journey across the mountains, I remember little of it. Theworthy Pedro had made such good use of his musket that my head wasracked with pain, and I could think of nothing. Most of the sicksoldiers were also in grievous plight, and it was a relief to us allwhen, after several days' travelling, the procession finally halted inJauja.

  Here we were lifted from the carts and carried to a long whitewashedbuilding filled with beds. They were made on the floor, and many ofthem were already occupied. Accommodation was found for most of us,but several had to wait until some of the beds became vacant.

  Two or three doctors examined the fresh patients, and one forced me toswallow a dose of medicine. Why, I could not think, unless he wantedme to know what really vile stuff he was capable of concocting.

  I shall pass quickly over this portion of my story. For weeks I lay inthat wretched room, where dozens of men struggled night and day againstdeath. Some snatched a victory in this terrible fight, but now andagain I noticed a file of soldiers reverently carrying a silent figurefrom one of the low beds.

  By the end of September I was strong enough to get up, and the doctorspronouncing me out of danger, I was taken to another building. Thiswas used as a prison for captured officers of the Patriot forces, andthe very first person to greet me as I stepped inside the room was thelively Alzura.

  "Juan Crawford," cried he, "by all that's wonderful! From the ballroomto the prison-house! There's a splendid subject for the moralist.Where have you been, Juan? your people think you are dead. Miller isfrantic; all your friends in Lima are in despair."

  "Do you know anything of Don Felipe Montilla?" I asked.

  "Montilla? No; there is a mystery about him too. It is given out thathe was abducted by brigands, but some people whisper another story."

  "What?"

  "That he fled to the Royalists, my boy, as I prophesied he would."

  "Then you were a false prophet."

  "Then I ask the worthy Don's pardon for suspecting him without cause.But how did you get here?"

  "I was brought in a wagon."

  "Lucky dog! Always lucky, Juan. I had to walk," and he showed me hisfeet, naked, and scored with cuts.

  After sympathizing with him, I asked him how events were shaping.

  "Canterac did not capture Callao, as he hoped, and is now back in thehighlands. Many things have happened, however; let me be yourchronicle. Where shall I start?"

  "From the day that Canterac swooped down on Lima."

  "That was nothing. He sat down in the capital; we hugged the guns atCallao and looked at him. When he got tired he took himself off, andwe returned to our quarters."

  "Nothing very exciting in that."
br />   "You are right, my boy. Your judgment is marvellous. But we had a dayof excitement shortly before I came on this trip. You should have beenthere. Lima went stark mad! The guns at Callao thundered for hours;the capital was decked with flags; the people cheered till they werehoarse; there was a very delirium of joy. It was the greeting of Peruto her saviour--her second saviour, that is."

  "Why can't you speak plainly? Do you mean Bolivar has come?"

  "Your second question, Juan, shows there was little need for the first.Yes, Bolivar, the protector or emperor, or whatever name the new masterof Peru cares to be known by. The hero of South America has arrived;let the Spaniards tremble!"

  "For any sake give your tongue a rest. What has Santa Cruz done?"

  "What has Santa Cruz done? A very great deal, my boy, I assure you.He has lost his whole army--men and horses, guns and ammunition, wagonsand stores. What do you think of that, young man? You will becompelled to swallow Bolivar after all."

  "Let us change the subject. Tell me about yourself."

  "Ah," said he, "that is indeed a great subject! Your discernment isworthy of praise. I can talk on that topic for hours without tiring.Where shall I begin?"

  "Where is the jailer?"

  "Why?"

  "That I may ask him to send me back to the hospital."

  "Juan, you are a fraud! But hark! that is the bell calling us todinner. Blessed sound! Come with me to the banquet."