The Coast of Adventure Part 50

"I'll try to deserve your confidence," Walthew answered, and added with a navely thoughtful air: "My people will come round; the only thing they'll insist on is that I enter the family business, and that's going to be easier than I thought."

"Why did you refuse in the beginning?"

"It's rather hard to explain. I wanted to get into touch with realities, to learn what I was good for and find my proper level."

Sarmiento made a sign of comprehension.

"And in searching for what you call realities, you have found yourself."

Walthew recognized the truth of this. It was not that in facing danger and hards.h.i.+p he had gained steadiness and self-control, because he had never lacked courage, but he had acquired a clearer conception of essential things. He would no longer be content to accept thoughtlessly the conventional view. His comrade had taught him much by his coolness in time of strain and his stubborn tenacity when things went wrong. It was not for nothing that Grahame had hawk-like eyes: he had the gift of seeing what must be done. But, after all, it was from hards.h.i.+p itself that Walthew had learned most, and in the light of that knowledge he determined to go home. The work he was best fitted for was waiting in the smoky, industrial town; it was not the task he had longed for, but it was his, and he would be content now.

Don Martin smiled.

"You may try to persuade Blanca to go with you to your country, if you wish. I want a talk with your comrade now. Will you send him to me?"

Walthew left him with a light heart, and shortly afterward Grahame joined Don Martin.

"Senor," said the leader, "you have kept your agreement with us faithfully, and I do not know that we have any further claim, but I understand that you do not mean to leave us yet."

"No," Grahame replied quietly; "I shall see you through."

"Good! Another body of our friends is gathering at a village to which I will send you with a guide. They are well armed and determined. I offer you command."

"Where is the senorita Cliffe?" Grahame wanted to know.

"At a _hacienda_ two or three hours' ride back. She is in good hands, and at daybreak my daughter leaves to join her."

Grahame was sensible of keen disappointment.

"When do you wish me to start?" he asked.

"As soon as possible; but you'd better take an hour's rest."

"I'm ready now if you will give me my orders."

When, a few minutes later, he rode away with the guide, Walthew and Blanca left the camp and followed a path that led through a field of rustling sugar-cane.

"We must not go far," Blanca protested. "This is quite against my people's idea of what is correct."

"It's a sign of the change you're going to make for me. You might have been something like a princess here, and you'll be the wife of a plain American citizen, instead."

"I never wanted to be a princess," she said; "and certainly not a conspirator. All I really hoped for was one faithful subject."

"You have one whose loyalty won't change. But you mustn't expect too much, because I'm giving up my adventurous career and turning business man. Men like Bolivar and the other fellow you wanted me to copy aren't born every day--and I'm not sure we'd appreciate them if they were."

Blanca laughed.

"You are a pessimist, but I will tell you a secret. It needs courage to be the wife of a great soldier and I am not brave enough." Her voice fell to a low, caressing note. "One's heart shrinks from sending the man one loves into danger."

Walthew stopped in the path and faced the girl. She was smiling. The half-moon, now high overhead, shed its beams down in a weird light that lay over everything like a mantle of blue silver. All about them the tall cane whispered in the wind.

Walthew opened his arms, and Blanca cuddled to him.

"It is so wonderful!" he breathed, after the first long kiss. "So wonderful that you are really going back to the States with me!"

"You are not going back the same," she smiled up at him; and he stooped and kissed the smile.

"----You have seen the vision," she finished; "romance has touched you."

"It was you who opened my eyes. Perhaps now they are dazzled; but we will never let the vision quite fade. Romance shall spread her bright wings above the home I'm going to build you on the river bluff----"

Again he found her mouth, and drank deep.

The silence was broken by a rattle of leather and a jingle of steel that startled them, and as they turned quickly and walked up the path a dark figure rose out of the gloom ahead and stood before them, sinister and threatening. When Walthew had answered the sentry's challenge, Blanca s.h.i.+vered.

"I had forgotten for a few minutes," she said. "Rio Frio is not taken yet, and you must fight for us."

"For two or three days, if all goes well. It can't be a long struggle.

Rio Frio is bound to fall."

Blanca clung closer to him.

"I cannot keep you," she said; "but how I wish the days were over! There is nothing of the princess in me; I am only an anxious girl."

CHAPTER x.x.xIII

THE HERO OF RIO FRIO

Day was breaking when Cliffe saw Rio Frio loom out above low-lying mist.

There was no perceptible light in the sky, but the scattered clumps of trees were growing blacker and more distinct, and the town began to stand out against a dusky background. It had an unsubstantial look, as if it might suddenly fade away, and Cliffe felt that he was doing something fantastic and unreal as he watched the blurred forms of his companions move on. To some extent, want of sleep and weariness accounted for this, because he had marched all night, but the silence with which the rebels advanced helped the illusion. A number of them were barefooted and the raw-hide sandals of the others made no sound in the thick dust.

Cliffe marched near the head of the straggling battalion, a cartridge-belt round his waist and a rifle on his shoulder. His light clothes were damp and stained with soil. His costly Panama hat hung, crumpled and shapeless, about his head, and he did not differ much in external appearance from the men around him. They were a picturesque, undisciplined band, but Cliffe knew that they meant business. He recognized that there was something humorous about his marching with them. He belonged to the orderly cities, where he had been treated as a man of importance, but now he was swayed by primitive impulses and had cast off the habits of civilization.

The rebel leader had promised to make inquiries about Evelyn, but had learned nothing. Cliffe imagined that the man, having other things to think about, had not been very diligent. He held Gomez accountable for the distress he felt. The rogue had cheated him and stolen his daughter.

Cliffe sternly determined that he should pay for it. Gomez, however, was in Rio Frio and, since he could not be reached by other means, Cliffe was ready to fight his way into the town. The curious thing was that instead of finding the prospect disagreeable he was conscious of a certain fierce satisfaction. The commander of the detachment had treated him well, but his limited knowledge of Castilian had made it necessary that he should take his place in the ranks.

The leading files halted, and from their disjointed remarks Cliffe gathered that a picket of the enemy's had been surprised by the scouts.

He had heard no shots, but he could imagine the dark-skinned men, many of whom had Indian blood in them, crawling silently through the long gra.s.s with unsheathed knives. It was not a pleasant picture; but the road was clear.

The light was growing when they went on, moving faster. The need for haste was obvious. As they were not numerous, they must enter the town while darkness covered their approach, and they were late. Another detachment should have met them, but it had not arrived. On the whole, Cliffe did not think their chances good, but that did not daunt him, and he trudged on with the rest, the dust rolling like a fog about his head.

After a while the advance split up into two streams of hurrying men, and, going with one body, Cliffe saw the flat-topped houses near ahead.

Stumbling among small bushes, and gazing between the shoulders of the men in front, he made out a shadowy opening in the line of buildings. A few minutes later the clatter of sandals rose from slippery stones, there were blank walls about him, and he was in the town. It was hard to believe they had entered unopposed, without a shot being fired, but he supposed the guard had been surprised and overpowered by friends inside.