Roger the Bold Part 36

That is, should we have the fortune to return. Now, the curtain and the s.h.i.+rts. Quick, for there is little time to waste."

"They are here, my lord. I will enter and help to hand them out. But hark!"

"The horn!" Roger shouted, as the plaintive note which, on a former day, had roused the Mexicans to fight for their king, came to his ear. "The signal for all who are left to retreat to the landing-stage."

"And for us to go also, my lord. Quick! Gather the jewels and let us go, otherwise we shall be killed, and then what service will this trash do you?"

They worked as if every second were of the utmost value, as indeed it was. The curtain was spread on the ground, and handfuls of gems tossed in, while Tamba had already tied some of the largest into a corner.

Then Roger threw a few of the finest gold cups and bowls into the heap, while the priest added the disc.

"Let the picture which holds the secret go too," he said bitterly. "Who knows? In years to come it may be the only sample of our writing which remains. It may outlive this fallen nation."

"Pick up the curtain," cried Roger, and in a moment Tamba had it on his back, and was climbing through the opening. Then came the priest with the s.h.i.+rt of the unfortunate Alvarez, while Roger followed with his own jerkin well laden. They had as much now as they could well carry, and the addition of another load, which was fetched by one of the natives, completed their burden.

"To the stage," said Roger, shortly. "And, priest, can we trust these men?"

"They will die rather than break their promise to me, or harm you," was the answer. "You have the Spaniards alone to fear. Forward, and let us get out of this awful city. The ruins strike grief into my mind. I would that I had been killed at the commencement rather than live to see this fair place levelled in ruins. Forward to the stage."

They staggered down the stairs, out through the garden, and then by a little-known corridor through the palace. Then they had to traverse a few streets before reaching the landing-stage. Thousands of natives were about, but these took no notice of the party, seeing their comrades with it. Soon the stage was in sight, and Roger gave vent to a cry of dismay.

"The Spaniards are there already," he said with a groan. "They will cut us off. Look, they are bearing down with their swords and their pikes."

"Roger! Roger de Luce!"

A tall man, dressed in the native costume, but obviously one of the Englishmen, stood on the very edge of the stage shouting for our hero.

Beside him lay one of the double canoes with a crew of rowers, while farther off in the water street others lay on their oars, containing the king and other n.o.bles. But none would leave till the white cacique had come. Philip stood there, port-fire in hand, shouting his name, while he eyed the two cannon which had been captured early in the siege. Little ammunition remained, and that had been carefully husbanded for the very last occasion. Philip had trained the guns on that part by which the Spaniards would approach, and he stood there, watching them as they ran, prepared to fire at them, and so give his friend a few seconds more in which to reach the boats.

"He is killed!" he shouted in despairing tones. "He must be dead, or he would have come before. But I will not stir yet. Blow the horn again.

Sound another note, and let us see if that will not bring him."

"He is here already. See! He and his party come, and they have the treasure."

It was Teotlili who caught him by the sleeve and drew his attention to the approaching party. Then together they shouted to Roger and his bearers to hasten. A minute later all but Philip were safely aboard the canoe.

"The king?" gasped Roger, touching Teotlili's arm.

"He is there. All who are alive are aboard," was the answer. "Listen to the last shot of the siege."

He pointed to Philip, and Roger raised his head, watching his friend as he trained the weapons on the advancing Spaniards. He glanced along the sights, blew at his port-fire, and then waited till a musket bullet sped past his cheek. Then he touched the vents and leaped into the canoe.

"Row!" shouted Teotlili. "Row out into the lake!"

They pushed off as the cannon exploded, scattering a murderous charge of stones amongst the Spaniards. Then the crew thrust their paddles into the water and sent the craft along. Worn out though they were, and more than half starved, they managed to summon sufficient strength for the task, and very soon were out on the great lake. It was getting dusk, and thanks to that, this canoe managed to reach the far sh.o.r.e without attracting the attention of the enemy. And there they learned that the king and a few of his n.o.bles had been captured, while fourteen of the Englishmen were gathered there in addition to Roger. Some thousands of the Mexicans had also reached the sh.o.r.e, and stood there disconsolate.

"Scatter at once," called out Teotlili. "Make for the hills, and wait there for news of the king. Do not stay here longer, for in the morning the enemy will cover the plain. Now, my lord," he said, turning to Roger. "What are your commands? You have served us faithfully, you and your friends. The reward you have with you is far too mean, and too small to repay you; for such as it is it is yours by right. Where will you take it? There is no longer need for your arms in this unhappy country."

"Then lead us to the coast," answered our hero. "Take us to Vera Cruz, where we may be able to capture a vessel."

Without loss of time the n.o.ble gave the necessary orders, picking out a number of men who had acted as the king's bodyguard, and who were in fairly good condition. Then he placed a guide at the head, and bade the whole lot advance. Two days later they came in sight of the Spanish town of Vera Cruz, which had risen like a mushroom, as if in one night, the labour being undertaken by the natives. There were s.h.i.+ps in the roadstead, and a spy reported that but few white men remained there to guard the place, the remainder having gone to Mexico.

What need to tell more! Roger and his friends, though almost worn out, made one last effort and captured the very brigantine in which they had sailed from England. They embarked with their treasure, and two days later put in at a creek some hundred miles down the coast, where, with the help of friendly natives, they revictualled the s.h.i.+p as well as possible, placing aboard sufficient fruits and herbs to last them for some weeks. Then came the hour of parting. Tamba stood beside his master, while Teotlili stepped into the canoe alongside.

He dared not look back once he had taken his farewell, and there were tears in Roger's eyes at the parting.

Five weeks later the brigantine put in at the port of London, her crew looking more like scarecrows than like British sailors. But they had improved in condition during the voyage, thanks to two calls made during their run along the northern coast of South America. But clothes they had none to speak of, and so it was a day before they could venture from the vessel. Then Roger, the acknowledged leader, with Philip beside him, and Peter Tamworth bringing up the rear, and watching over Tamba and the load he carried, made their way to the palace of King Henry.

The whole of England rang with the tale of their exploit, and Roger and his comrades met with due honour. But little was said of the jewels and the wealth, for it would have been unwise to rouse the ire of Spain.

Still, Roger had done good work for those who had organized the expedition, and they did not forget. Our hero won fame and a knighthood and sufficient wealth to permit of his buying a fine estate in the country and a house in the city of London. And there Tamba went with him; while Philip and Peter, now both men of means and consequence, came often to speak of the old days, of the Spaniards, and of the one-time fairy city of Mexico. Then they would fill their leathern jugs, to which they still clung for the sake of old acquaintance, and would drink in silence to those who were gone, to the gallant souls who had fought beside them, and to those fine natives of Mexico who had struggled under the leaders.h.i.+p of Roger the Bold.