The Free Lances Part 38

Up to this time the last named lady had not said a word, the distress she was in restraining her. But as mistress there, she saw it was her turn to speak, which she did, saying--

"If we are your prisoners, Colonel Santander, I hope you will not take us away from here till my father comes home. As you may be aware, he's in the city."

"I am aware of that, Dona Luisa, and glad to say my orders enable me to comply with your wishes, and that you remain here till Don Ignacio returns. I'm enjoined to see to your safe keeping--a very absurd requirement, but one which often falls to the lot of the soldier as well as the _policeman_."

Neither the significant words nor the forced laugh that accompanied them had any effect on her for whom they were intended. With disdain in her eyes, such as a captive queen might show for the common soldier who stood guard over her, the Condesa had already turned her back upon the speaker and was walking away. With like proud air, but less confident and scornful, Luisa Valverde followed. Both were allowed to pa.s.s inside, leaving the Hussar colonel to take such measures for their keeping as he might think fit.

His first step was to order in the remainder of his escort and distribute them around the house, so that in ten minutes after the _casa de campo_ of Don Ignacio Valverde bore resemblance to a barrack, with sentinels at every entrance and corner!

CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN.

UNDER ARREST.

Scarce necessary to say that Luisa Valverde and Ysabel Almonte were at length really alarmed--fully alive to a sense of their danger.

It was no more a question of the safety of their lovers, but their own.

And the prospect was dark, indeed. Santander had said nothing of the reason for arresting them; nor had they cared to inquire. They divined it; no longer doubting that it was owing to revelations made by the hunchback.

Sure now that this diminutive wretch not only himself knew their secret, but had made it known in higher quarters, there seemed no hope for them; instead, ruin staring them in the face. The indignity to their persons they were already experiencing would be followed by social disgrace, and confiscation of property.

"Oh, Ysabelita! what will they do to us?" was the Dona Luisa's anxious interrogatory, soon as they had got well inside their room. "Do you think they'll put us in a prison?"

"Possibly they will. I wish there was nothing worse awaiting us."

"Worse! Do you mean they'd inflict punishment on us--that is, corporal punishment? Surely they daren't?"

"Daren't! Santa Anna dare anything--at least, neither shame nor mercy will restrain him. No more this other man, his minion, whom you know better than I. But it isn't punishment of that kind I'm thinking of."

"What then, Ysabel? The loss of our property? It'll be all taken from us, I suppose."

"In all likelihood it will," rejoined the Condesa, with as much unconcern as though her estates, value far more than a million, were not worth a thought.

"Oh! my father! This new misfortune, and all owing to me. 'Twill kill him!"

"No, no, Luisita! Don't fear that. He will survive it, if aught survives of our country's liberty. And it will, all of it, be restored again. 'Tis something else I was thinking of."

Again the other asked "What?" her countenance showing increased anxiety.

"What we as women have more to fear than aught else. From the loss of lands, houses, riches of any sort, one may recover--from the loss of that, never!"

Enigmatic as were the words, Luisa Valverde needed no explanation of them, nor pressed for it. She comprehended all now, and signified her apprehension by exclaiming, with a shudder, "_Virgen Santissima_!"

"The prison they will take us to," pursued the Countess, "is a place-- that in the Plaza Grande. We shall be immured there, and at the mercy of that man, that monster! O G.o.d!--O Mother of G.o.d, protect me!"

At which she dropped down upon a couch despairingly, with face buried in her hands.

It was a rare thing for the Condesa Almonte to be so moved--rather, to show despondence--and her friend was affected accordingly. For there was another man at whose mercy she herself would be--one like a monster, and as she well knew equally unmerciful--he who at that moment was under the same roof with them--in her father's house, for the time its master.

"But, Ysabel," she said, hoping against hope, "surely they will not dare to--"

She left the word unspoken, knowing it was not needed to make her meaning understood.

"Not dare!" echoed the Countess, recovering nerve and again rising to her feet. "As I've said, he'll dare anything--will Don Antonio Lopez De Santa Anna. Besides, what has _he_ to fear? Nothing. He can show good cause for our imprisonment, else he would never have had us arrested.

Enough to satisfy any clamour of the people. And how would any one ever know of what might be done to us inside the Palacio? Ah, _Luisita querida_, if its walls could speak they might tell tales sad enough to make angels weep. We wouldn't be the first who have been subjected to insult--ay, infamy--by _El excellentissimo. Valga me Dios_!" she cried out in conclusion, stamping her foot on the floor, while the flash of her eyes told of some fixed determination. "If it be so, that Palace prison will have another secret to keep, or a tale to tell, sad and tragic as any that has preceded. I, Ysabel Almonte, shall die in it rather than come out dishonoured."

"I, too!" echoed Luisa Valverde, if in less excited manner, inspired by a like heroic resolve.

While his fair prisoners were thus exchanging thought and speech, Santander, in the _sala grande_ outside, was doing his best to pa.s.s the time pleasantly. An effort it was costing him, however, and one far from successful. His last lingering hope of being beloved by Luisa Valverde was gone--completely destroyed by what had late come to his knowledge--and henceforth his love for her could only be as that of Tarquin for Lucretia. Nor would he have any Collatinus to fear--no rival, martial or otherwise--since his master, Santa Anna, had long since given up his designs on Don Ignacio's daughter, exclusively bending himself to his scheme of conquest--now revenge--over the Condesa. But though relieved in this regard, and likely to have his own way, Carlos Santander was anything but a happy man after making that arrest; instead, almost as miserable as either of those he had arrested.

Still keeping up a pretence of gallantry, he could not command their company in the drawing-room where he had installed himself; nor, under the circ.u.mstances, would it have been desirable. He was not alone, however; Major Ramirez and the other officers of his escort being there with him; and, as in like cases, they were enjoying themselves. However considerate for the feelings of the ladies, they made free enough with the house itself, its domestics, larder, and _cocina_, and, above all, the cellar. Its binns were inquired into, the best wine ordered to be brought from them, as though they who gave the order were the guests of an hotel and Don Ignacio's drawing-room a drinking saloon.

Outside in the courtyard, and further off by the coach-house, similar scenes were transpiring. Never had that quiet _casa de campo_ known so much noise. For the soldiers had got among them--it was the house of a _rebel_, and therefore devoted to ruin.

CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT.

THE COCHERO DOGGED.

Just after the ladies had been proclaimed under arrest, but before the sentinels were posted around the house, a man might have been seen outside their line, making all haste away from it. He had need, his capture being also contemplated. Jose it was, who, from a place of concealment, had not only seen what pa.s.sed, but heard the conversation between Santander and the Senoritas. The words spoken by his young mistress, and the rejoinder received, were all he waited for. Giving him his cue for departure, they also gave him hopes of something more than the saving of his own life. That the last was endangered he knew now--forfeited, indeed, should he fall into the hands of those who had invaded the place. So, instead of returning to the stable-yard, from which he had issued on hearing the _fracas_ in front, he retreated rearwards, first through the ornamental grounds, then over the wall upon which the hunchback had perched himself on the preceding night. Jose, however, did not stay on it for more than a second's time. Soon as mounting to its summit, he slid down on the other side, and ran along the lane in the direction of the main road.

Before reaching this, however, a reflection caused him to slacken pace, and then come to a stop. It was still daylight, and there would be a guard stationed by the front gate, sure to see him along the road. The ground on the opposite side of the lane was a patch of rocky scrub--in short, a _chapparal_--into which in an instant after he plunged, and when well under cover again made stop, this time dropping down on his hands and knees. The att.i.tude gave him a better opportunity of listening; and listen he did--all ears.

To hear voices all around the house, loudest in the direction of the stable-yard. In tones not of triumph, but telling of disappointment.

For in truth it was so; the shouts of the soldiers searching for his very self, and swearing because he could not be found. He had reason to congratulate himself in having got outside the enclosure. It was now being quartered everywhere, gardens, grounds, and all.

For the time he felt comparatively safe; but he dared not return to the lane. And less show himself on the open road; as scouting parties were sure of being sent out after him. There was no alternative, therefore, but stay where he was till the darkness came down. Luckily, he would not have long to wait for it. The sun had set, and twilight in the Mexican valley is but a brief interval between day and night. In a few minutes after commencement it is over.

Short as it was, it gave him time to consider his future course of action, though that required little consideration. It had been already traced out for him, partly by the Condesa, in an interview he held with her but an hour before and partly by instructions he had received when up at the old convent direct from the lips of Don Ruperto. Therefore, hurried as was his retreat, he was not making it as one who went blindly and without definite aim. He had this, with a point to be reached, which, could he only arrive at, not only might his own safety be secured, but that of those he was equally anxious about, now more imperilled than himself.

With a full comprehension of their danger, and the hope of being able to avert it, soon as the twilight deepened to darkness he forsook his temporary place of concealment, and, returning to the lane, glided noiselessly along it towards the main road. Coming out upon this, he turned to the left, and without looking behind, hurried up the hill as fast as his limbs could carry him.

Perhaps better for him had he looked behind; and yet in the end it might have been worse. Whether or no, he was followed by a man--if it were a man--and, if a thing, not his own shadow. A grotesque creature, seemingly all arms and legs, moved after, keeping pace with him, no matter how rapidly he progressed. Not overtaking him; though it looked as if able to do so, but did not wish. Just so it was--the stalker being Zorillo.

The stalk had risen rather accidentally. The hunchback--now in a manner attached to the party of Hussars--had been himself loitering near the end of the lane, and saw the _cochero_ as he came out on the road. He knew the latter was being sought for, and by no one more zealously than himself. Besides cupidity, he was prompted by burning revenge. The disappearance of his ill-gotten treasure was no longer a mystery to him.

The abandoned halters, with the horses for which they had been intended, told him all. Only the _cochero_ could have carried the things off.

And now, seeing the latter as he stole away in retreat, his first impulse was to raise the hue and cry, and set the soldiers after. But other reflections, quick succeeding, restrained him. They might not be in time to secure a capture. In the darkness there was every chance of the _mertizo_ eluding them. A tract of forest was not far off, and he would be into it before they could come up. Besides, the hunchback had also conjectured that the failure of their over-night expedition was due to Jose. He must have overheard that conversation with the colonel of Hussars, and carried it direct to those whom it so seriously concerned, thus saving them from the surprise intended. In all likelihood he was now on his way to another interview with them.

If so, and if he, Zorillo, could but spot the place, and bring back report of it to Santander, it would give him a new claim for services, and some compensation for the loss he had sustained through the now hated _cochero_.

Soon as resolved he lost not a moment in making after, keeping just such distance between as to hinder Jose from observing him. He had the advantage in being behind, as it was all uphill, and from below he could see the other by the better light above, while himself in obscurity.

But he also availed himself of the turnings of the road, and the scrub that grew alongside it, through which he now and then made way. His long legs gave a wonderful power of speed, and he could have come up with the _mertizo_ at any moment. He knew that, but knew also it would likely cost him his life. For the _cochero_ must be aware of what he had done--enough to deserve death at his hands. He might well dread an encounter, and was careful to avoid it. Indeed, but for his belief that he was an overmatch for the other in speed, he would not have ventured after him.

For nearly five miles up the mountain road the stalk was continued.

Then he, whose footsteps were so persistently dogged, was seen to turn into a side path, which led along a ravine still upward. But the change, of course, did not throw off the sleuth-hound skulking on his track, the latter also entering the gorge, and gliding on after.