The Heart's Secret; Or, the Fortunes of a Soldier Part 23

"Yes, the surgeon reports him out of danger. Yesterday he was in a fever from his wounds. I can't conceive how he got them, and no one seems to know much about it."

"There's Carlo and father, on the Plato; good-by, sister I'm going to join them."

CHAPTER XVII.

THE a.s.sa.s.sIN.

THE apartment where General Harero was confined to his bed by the severe wounds he had received, presented much such an aspect as Lorenzo Bezan's had done, when in the early part of this story the reader beheld him in the critical state that the wounds he received from the Montaros on the road had placed him. It was dark and gloomy then. The same surgeon who had been so faithful a nurse to our hero, was now with the wounded officer. Notwithstanding the excitement of his patient's mind, he had succeeded in quieting him down by proper remedies, so as to admit of treating him properly for his wounds, and to relieve his brain, at least in part, from the excitement of feeling that a spirit of revenge had created there.

A knock was heard at the door just at the moment when we would have the reader look with us into the apartment, and the surgeon admitted a tall, dark person, partly enveloped in a cloak. It was evening; the barracks were still, and the gloom of the sick room was, if possible, rendered greater by the darkness that was seen from the uncurtained window. At a sign from his patient the surgeon left him alone with the new comer, who threw himself upon a camp-stool, and folding his arms, awaited the general's pleasure. In the meantime, if the reader will look closely upon the hard lineaments of his face, the heavy eyebrow, the profusion of beard, and the cold-blooded and heartless expression of features, he will recognize the game man whom he has once before met with General Harero, and who gave him the keys by which he succeeded in making a secret entrance to Lorenzo Bezan's cell in the prison before the time appointed for his execution. It was the jailor of the military prison.

"Lieutenant," said the general, "I have sent for you to perform a somewhat delicate job for me."

"What is it, general?"

"I will tell you presently; be not in such haste," said the sick man.

"I am at your service."

"Have I not always paid you well when employed by me, lieutenant?"

"n.o.bly, general, only too liberally."

"Would you like to serve me again in a still more profitable job?"

"Nothing could be more agreeable."

"But it is a matter that requires courage, skill, care and secrecy.

It is no boy's play."

"All the better for that, general."

"Perhaps you will not say so when I have explained it to you more fully."

"You have tried me before now!" answered the jailor, emphatically.

"True, and I will therefore trust you at once. There is a life to be taken!"

"What! another?" said the man, with surprise depicted on his face.

"Yes, and one who may cost you some trouble to manage-a quick man and a swordsman."

"Who is it?"

"Lorenzo Bezan!"

"The new lieutenant-general?"

"The same."

"Why, now I think of it, that is the very officer whom you visited long ago by the secret pa.s.sage in the prison."

"Very true."

"And now you would kill him?"

"Yes."

"And for what?"

"That matters not. You will be paid for your business, and must ask no questions."

"O, very well; business is business."

"You see this purse?"

"Yes."

"It contains fifty doubloons. Kill him before the set of to-morrow's sun, and it is yours."

"Fifty doubloons?"

"Is it not enough?"

"The risk is large; if he were but a private citizen, now-but the lieutenant-governor!"

"I will make it seventy-five."

"Say one hundred, and it is a bargain," urged the jailor, coolly.

"On your own terms, then," was the general's reply, as he groaned with pain.

"It is dangerous business, but it shall be done," said the other, drawing a dagger from his bosom and feeling its point carefully.

"But I must have another day, as to-night it may be too late before I can arrange to meet him, and that will allow but one more night to pa.s.s. I can do nothing in the daytime."

"Very well."

"Where shall I be most likely to meet him, think you?"

"Possibly after twilight, on the Plato, near the house of Don Gonzales."