The Rifle Rangers Part 34

"I am not so sure of that, Captain," replied my companion, in a manner that seemed to imply he had still hopes of an escape.

"Where that sh.e.l.l came in," he continued, "something else may go out.

Let us see--was it the roof?"

"I think so."

We groped our way hand in hand towards the centre of the room, looking upwards.

"_Peste_!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Raoul; "I can't see a foot before me--my eyes are filled--_bah_!"

So were mine. We stood waiting. The dust was gradually settling down, and we could perceive a faint glimmer from above. _There was a large hole through the roof_!

Slowly its outlines became defined, and we could see that it was large enough to pa.s.s the body of a man; but it was at least fourteen feet from the floor, and we had not timber enough to make a walking-stick!

"What is to be done? We are not cats, Raoul. We can never reach it!"

My comrade, without making a reply, lifted me up in his arms, telling me to climb. I mounted upon his shoulders, balancing myself like a Bedouin; but with my utmost stretch I could not touch the roof.

"Hold!" cried I, a thought striking me. "Let me down, Raoul. Now, if they will only give us a little time."

"Never fear for them; they've enough to do taking care of their own yellow carcases."

I had noticed that a beam of the roof formed one side of the break, and I proceeded to twist our handcuffs into a clamp, while Raoul peeled off his leather breeches and commenced, tearing them into strips. In ten minutes our "tackle" was ready, and, mounting upon my comrade's shoulders, I flung it carefully at the beam. It failed to catch, and I came down to the floor, my balance being lost in the effort. I repeated the attempt. Again it failed, and I staggered down as before.

"_Sacre_!" cried Raoul through his teeth. The iron had struck him on the head.

"Come, we shall try and try--our lives depend upon it."

The third attempt, according to popular superst.i.tion, should be successful. It _was_ so with us. The clamp caught, and the string hung dangling downwards. Mounting again upon my comrade's shoulders, I grasped the thong high up to test its hold. It was secure; and, cautioning Raoul to hold fast lest the hook might be detached by my vibration, I climbed up and seized hold of the beam. By this I was enabled to squeeze myself through the roof.

Once outside I crawled cautiously along the azotea, which, like all others in Spanish houses, was flat, and bordered by a low parapet of mason-work. I peeped over this parapet, looking down into the street.

It was night, and I could see no one below; but up against the sky, upon distant battlements, I could distinguish armed soldiers busy around their guns. These blazed forth at intervals, throwing their sulphureous glare over the city.

I returned to a.s.sist Raoul, but, impatient of my delay, he had already mounted, and was dragging up the thong after him.

We crawled from roof to roof, looking for a dark spot to descend into the street. None of the houses in the range of our prison were more than one story high, and, after pa.s.sing several, we let ourselves down into a narrow alley. It was still early, and the people were running to and fro, amidst the frightful scenes of the bombardment. The shrieks of women were in our ears, mingled with the shouts of men, the groans of the wounded, and the fierce yelling of an excited rabble. The constant whizzing of bombs filled the air, and parapets were hurled down. A round-shot struck the cupola of a church as we pa.s.sed nearly under it, and the ornaments of ages came tumbling down, blocking up the thoroughfare. We clambered over the ruins and went on. There was no need of our crouching into dark shadows. No one thought of observing us now.

"We are near the house--will you still make the attempt to take him along?" inquired Raoul, referring to the boy Narcisso.

"By all means! Show me the place," replied I, half-ashamed at having almost forgotten, in the midst of our own perils, the object of our enterprise.

Raoul pointed to a large house with portals and a great door in the centre.

"There, Captain--there it is."

"Go under that shadow and wait. I shall be better alone."

This was said in a whisper. My companion did as directed.

I approached the great door and knocked boldly.

"_Quien_?" cried the porter within the _saguan_.

"_Yo_," I responded.

The door was opened slowly and with caution.

"Is the Senorito Narcisso within?" I inquired.

The man answered in the affirmative.

"Tell him a friend wishes to speak with him."

After a moment's hesitation the porter dragged himself lazily up the stone steps. In a few seconds the boy--a fine, bold-looking lad, whom I had seen during our trial--came leaping down. He started on recognising me.

"Hus.h.!.+" I whispered, making signs to him to be silent. "Take leave of your friends, and meet me in ten minutes behind the church of La Magdalena."

"Why, Senor," inquired the boy without listening, "how have you got out of prison? I have just been to the governor on your behalf, and--."

"No matter how," I replied, interrupting him; "follow my directions-- remember your mother and sisters are suffering."

"I shall come," said the boy resolutely.

"_Hasta luego_!" (Lose no time then). "_Adios_!"

We parted without another word. I rejoined Raoul, and we walked on towards La Magdalena. We pa.s.sed through the street where we had been captured on the preceding night, but it was so altered that we should not have known it. Fragments of walls were thrown across the path, and here and there lay ma.s.ses of bricks and mortar freshly torn down.

Neither patrol nor sentry thought of troubling us now, and our strange appearance did not strike the attention of the pa.s.sengers.

We reached the church, and Raoul descended, leaving me to wait for the boy. The latter was true to his word, and his slight figure soon appeared rounding the corner. Without losing a moment we all three entered the subterranean pa.s.sage, but the tide was still high, and we had to wait for the ebb. This came at length, and, clambering over the rocks, we entered the surf and waded as before. After an hour's toil we reached Punta Hornos, and a little beyond this point I was enabled to hail one of our own pickets, and to pa.s.s the lines in safety.

At ten o'clock I was in my own tent--just twenty-four hours from the time I had left it, and, with the exception of Clayley, not one of my brother officers knew anything of our adventure.

Clayley and I agreed to "mount" a party the next night and carry the boy to his friends. This we accordingly did, stealing out of camp after tattoo. It would be impossible to describe the rejoicing of our new acquaintances--the grat.i.tude lavishly expressed--the smiles of love that thanked us.

We should have repeated our visits almost nightly; but from that time the guerilleros swarmed in the back-country, and small parties of our men, straggling from camp, were cut off daily. It was necessary, therefore, for my friend and myself to chafe under a prudent impatience, and wait for the fall of Vera Cruz.

CHAPTER THIRTY.

A SHOT IN THE DARK.

The "City of the True Cross" fell upon the 29th of March, 1847, and the American flag waved over the castle of San Juan de Ulloa. The enemy's troops marched out upon parole, most of them taking their way to their distant homes upon the table-lands of the Andes.

The American garrison entered the town, but the body of our army encamped upon the green plains to the south.

Here we remained for several days, awaiting the order to march into the interior.