The Coast of Adventure Part 52

"I had no difficulty after I reached Don Martin's camp," she finished.

"His daughter, the pretty girl we saw at the International, was with him most of the time, and afterward her duenna treated me very well. When the rebels advanced on Rio Frio, Don Martin thought it safer for Blanca and me to go with them, but they left us outside with a guard until the town was taken. Then I was told that a priest had picked you up badly hurt and they brought me here. The house belongs to a merchant who took some part in the revolution. You can imagine how anxious I was until Father Agustin sent a doctor."

"I hate to think of the danger you were in," he said; "though you seem to have shown surprising grit."

Evelyn laughed and patted his shoulder.

"Then I must have inherited it. I'm told that you and the others held the barricade stubbornly for two hours. Don Martin admits that he might not have taken Rio Frio if it hadn't been for the stand you made."

"He wouldn't have taken it, and there'd have been very few of us left, if Grahame hadn't rushed the gun. But I've something else to thank him for. It seems from your story that he got himself into trouble by going to your help."

"Yes," said Evelyn quietly. "You can thank him now, if you like." She beckoned the man across the room. "Come and join us, dear."

The red glow from outside fell on her face as Cliffe gave her a surprised look, and he noticed that she blushed. Then he held out his hand to Grahame, because he thought he understood.

"It seems I owe you a good deal," he said.

"Well," Grahame returned, smiling, "I suppose my intentions were good, but I didn't accomplish much, and my partner had to run a serious risk to get me out of trouble."

"The way you rushed that gun was great."

"It might have been better if we had taken the fellows in the rear, but we were told that they were making things hot for you, and there was no time to get round."

"When we met in Havana I'd no idea that you were up against me," Cliffe said with a laugh. "Curious, isn't it, that we should make friends while I was backing the President and you the rebels!" He turned to the window. "What's the fire outside?"

"The _presidio_ burning. Gomez used it as headquarters and made his last stand there."

"Ah! Then your friends have finished him?"

Grahame nodded.

"A rather grim business. He had much to answer for, but although half his troops deserted, he made a gallant end."

"Where's your partner, and what are the rebel bosses doing now?"

"Walthew was patrolling the streets with a company of brigands when I last saw him; he promised to meet me here as soon as he was relieved.

The others are busy forming a provisional government. Don Martin said he'd call on you soon."

"I owe him some thanks, but I mean to cut my connection with this country's affairs. No more political speculations; I've had enough."

Grahame laughed.

"I can imagine that. These people are an unstable lot, and it's not certain that Don Martin, who's much the best man they have, will be the next president.... But we were told to keep you quiet, and Evelyn is tired. She had to follow the rebels' march all night, but wouldn't rest until she was satisfied about you."

"How long have you called her Evelyn?" Cliffe demanded, looking hard at him.

"He will tell you about that to-morrow," Evelyn answered with a blush.

"You must lie still and go to sleep again if you can, but if you give trouble, we'll leave the senora Rocas, who is deaf and very clumsy, to look after you."

When Cliffe fell asleep, Evelyn and Grahame went out on to the balcony and watched the moonlight creep across the town. There were lights in the cafes, and excited citizens gathered in the streets. Now and then a few angry cries broke out, but for the most part the sc.r.a.ps of news that spread among the crowd were received with exultant cheers.

The next day Cliffe was much better, and after breakfast Grahame found him sitting in the shady _patio_. He listened to the younger man quietly, and then held out his hand.

"I'm glad I can agree," he said. "I'll miss her, but I feel that she'll be safe with you."

Ten minutes later Grahame met Walthew, who looked disturbed and indignant.

"What are they doing at the council?" Grahame asked.

"Fooling!" said Walthew fiercely. "Seems to me they're mad! Last night they were solid for Don Martin, but now a faction that means to make Castillo president is gaining ground."

"A number of them must know he gave their plans away to save his skin."

"They know, all right. One fellow urged that Castillo did so as a matter of policy, because he meant to force Altiera's hand. Guess the crowd who want him would believe anything that suited them!"

"Well," Grahame said thoughtfully, "I've had my doubts whether they'd get on with Don Martin. His code of political morality's rather high; they want a man who won't expect too much. I dare say they feel that after turning out Altiera they're ent.i.tled to a few opportunities for graft themselves and for finding their friends official jobs. I'm sorry for Sarmiento, though. What does he say?"

"Haven't seen him this morning. Father Agustin believes he'll respect the wish of the majority, although the fellows who did the fighting are all on his side."

Grahame went to look for Evelyn, and it was noon when Walthew met him again.

"After a glorious row, they've chosen Castillo--and I wish them joy of him!" he said. "Don Martin withdraws his claim, and wants to leave to-morrow. He's going to live in Cuba, and if Cliffe's fit to travel, we may as well all clear out. I'm sick of this place. Anyway, I'd like to take Blanca and her father across in the _Enchantress_."

"There will be no difficulty about that. I think we can sell the boat at New Orleans. Have you made any plans?"

"Sure. I'm going to marry Blanca at Havana and then take her home. She seemed to think she ought to stay with her father, but Don Martin convinced her this wasn't necessary. Guess it hurt him, but he told me the girl had had a pretty rough time wandering about in exile, and he means to give her a chance of a brighter life."

"Why did you fix on Havana for the wedding?"

Walthew laughed.

"My people will see there is no use in kicking when I take my wife home; and they've only to give Blanca a fair show to get fond of her. Then there are a number of Americans in Havana, and I can get the thing properly registered and fixed up by our consul. Don Martin agreed." He paused a minute and added: "Don Martin's going to address the citizens in the plaza at six o'clock, and I think he'd like you and Cliffe to be there."

Grahame promised to ask Cliffe; and soon after dinner he found that a place had been kept for his party on the broad steps of the church of San Sebastian. The air was cooling and dusk was near, but the light had not gone, and the square was packed with an expectant crowd, except where a s.p.a.ce was kept. The lower steps were occupied by officials and leading citizens, but the two highest were empty.

For a few minutes there was deep silence, and n.o.body moved in the crowded plaza. Then a murmur rose as the leather curtain across the door was drawn back and Don Martin came out, with three priests in their robes behind him. He stood bareheaded on the second step, very straight and soldierlike, but plainly dressed in white, with no sash or badge of office; the priests standing above, with Father Agustin's tall figure in the middle. As he turned his face toward the crowd a great shout went up:

"_Viva Sarmiento! Viva el libertador!_"

Don Martin bowed, but did not speak; and a bugle call rang across the square and was followed by a measured tramp of feet. Men marching in loose fours swung out of a shadowy opening and advanced upon the church.

A red sash round the waist with the ends left hanging loose was the only uniform they wore, and Grahame felt a curious, emotional quiver as he recognized the detachment he had led. He understood that the best of them had been enrolled for a time as a national guard. Their brown faces were impa.s.sive as they filled the open s.p.a.ce, but after they swung into double line, instead of the conventional salute, they waved their ragged hats, and a roar broke out:

"_Viva Sarmiento! Viva el maestro!_"

Then some of the group looked anxious, and there was a stir in the crowd as an officer approached the steps. He had his pistol drawn, but he lowered it, and stood opposite Don Martin with his hat off.

"Your comrades salute you, senor," he said. "You have led us to victory, and if you have fresh orders for us, we obey you still."

He spoke clearly, in a meaning tone, and there was an applauding murmur from the crowd that gathered strength and filled the square. Everybody seemed to feel a sudden tension, and Grahame imagined that the superseded leader had only to give the signal for a counter revolution to begin; but he saw that Father Agustin wore a quiet smile.