Mr. Fortescue Part 13

As we sat at table, Carmen told the story of my rescue.

"It was well done," said our host, thoughtfully, "very well done. Yet I regret you had to kill the sentry. But for that you might have had a little sleep, and started after midnight. As it is, you must set off forthwith and get well on the road before the news of the escape gets noised abroad. And everything is ready. All your things are here, Senor Fortescue. You can select what you want for the journey and leave the rest in my charge."

"All my things here! How did you manage that, Senor Carera?"

"By sending a man, whom I could trust, in the character of a messenger from the prison with a note to the _posadero_, as from you, asking him to deliver your baggage and receipt your bill."

"That was very good of you, Senor Carera. A thousand thanks. How much--"

"How much! That is my affair. You are my guest, remember. Your baggage is in the next room, and while you make your preparations, I will see to the saddling of the horses."

A very few minutes sufficed to put on my riding boots, get my pistols, and make up my scanty kit. When I went outside, the horses were waiting in the _patio_, each of them held by a black groom. Everything was in order. A _cobija_ was strapped behind either saddle, both of which were furnished with holsters and bags.

"I have had some _tasajo_ (dried beef) put in the saddle-bags, as much as will keep you going three or four days," said Senor Carera. "You won't find many hotels on the road. And you will want a sword, Mr. Fortescue. Do me the favor to accept this as a souvenir of our friends.h.i.+p. It is a fine Toledo blade, with a history. An ancestor of mine wore it at the battle of Lepanto. It may bend but will never break, and has an edge like a razor. I give it to you to be used against my country's enemies, and I am sure you will never draw it without cause, nor sheathe it without honor."

I thanked my host warmly for his timely gift, and, as I buckled the historic weapon to my side, glanced at the horse which he had placed at my disposal. It was a beautiful flea-bitten gray, with a small, fiery head, arched neck, sloping shoulders, deep chest, powerful quarters, well-bent hocks, and "clean" shapely legs--a very model of a horse, and as it seemed, in perfect condition.

"Ah, you may look at Pizarro as long as you like, Senor Fortescue, and he is well worth looking at; but you will never tire him," said Carera. "What will you do if you meet the patrol, Salvador?"

"Evade them if we can, charge them if we cannot."

"By all means the former, if possible, and then you may not be pursued.

And now, Senor, I trust you will not hold me wanting in hospitality if I urge you to mount; but your lives are in jeopardy, and there may be death in delay. Put out the lights, men, and open the gates. _Adios_, Senor Fortescue! _Adios_, my dear Salvador. We shall meet again in happier times. G.o.d guard you, and bring you safe to your journey's end."

And then we rode forth into the night.

"We had better take to the open country at once, and strike the road about a few miles farther on. It is rather risky, for we shall have to get over several rifts made by the earthquake and cross a stream with high banks.

But if we take to the road straightway, we are almost sure to meet a patrol. We may meet one in any case; but the farther from the city the encounter takes place, the greater will be our chance of getting through."

"You know best. Lead on, and I will follow. Are these rifts you speak of wide?"

"They are easily jumpable by daylight; but how we shall do them in the dark, I don't know. However, these horses are as nimble as cats, and almost as keen-sighted. I think, if we leave it to them, they will carry us safely over. The sky is a little clearer, too, and that will count in our favor. This way!"

We sped on as swiftly and silently as the spectre horseman of the story, for Venezuelan horses being unshod and their favorite pace a gliding run (much less fatiguing for horse and rider than the high trot of Europe) they move as noiselessly over gra.s.s as a man in slippers.

"Look out!" cried Carmen, reining in his horse. "We are not far from the first grip. Don't you see something like a black streak running across the gra.s.s? That is it."

"How wide, do you suppose?"

"Eight or ten feet. Don't try to guide your horse. He won't refuse. Let him have his head and take it in his own way. Go first; my horse likes a lead."

Pizarro went to the edge of the rift, stretched out his head as if to measure the distance, and then, springing over as lightly as a deer, landed safely on the other side. The next moment Carmen was with me. After two or three more grips (all of unknown depth, and one smelling strongly of sulphur) had been surmounted in the same way, we came to the stream.

The bank was so steep and slippery that the horses had to slide down it on their haunches (after the manner of South American horses). But having got in, we had to get out. This proved no easy task, and it was only after we had floundered in the brook for twenty minutes or more, that Carmen found a place where he thought it might be possible to make our exit. And such a place! We were forced to dismount, climb up almost on our hands and knees, and let the horses scramble after us as they best could.

"That is the last of our difficulties," said Carmen, as we got into our saddles. "In ten minutes we strike the road, and then we shall have a free course for several hours."

"How about the patrols? Do you think we have given them the slip?"

"I do. They don't often come as far as this."

We reached the road at a point where it was level with the fields; and a few miles farther on entered a defile, bounded on the left by a deep ravine, on the right by a rocky height.

And then there occurred a startling phenomenon. As the moon rose above the Silla of Caracas, the entire savanna below us seemed to take fire, streams as of lava began to run up (not down) the sides of the hills, throwing a lurid glare over the sleeping city, and bringing into strong relief the rugged mountains which walled in the plain.

"Good heavens, what is that!" I exclaimed.

"It is the time of drought, and the peons are firing the gra.s.s to improve the land," said Carmen. "I wish they had not done it just now, though.

However, it is, perhaps, quite as well. If the light makes us more visible to others, it also makes others more visible to us. Hark! What is that?

Did you not hear something?"

"I did. The neighing of a horse. Halt! Let us listen."

"The neighing of a horse and something more."

"Men's voices and the rattle of accoutrements. The patrol, after all. What shall we do? To turn back would be fatal. The ravine is too deep to descend. Climbing those rocks is out of the question. There is but one alternative--we must charge right through them."

"How many men does a patrol generally consist of?"

"Sometimes two, sometimes four."

"May it not be a squadron on the march?"

"It may. No matter. We must charge them, all the same. Better die sword in hand than be garroted on the plaza. We have one great advantage. We shall take these fellows by surprise. Let us wait here in the shade, and the moment they round that corner, go at them, full gallop."

The words were scarcely spoken, when two dragoons came in sight, then two more.

"Four!" murmured Carmen. "The odds are not too great. We shall do it. Are you ready? Now!"

The dragoons, surprised by our sudden appearance, pulled up and stood stock-still, as if doubtful whether our intentions were hostile or friendly; and we were at them almost before they had drawn their swords.

As I charged the foremost Spaniard, his horse swerved from the road, and rolled with his rider into the ravine. The second, profiting by his comrade's disaster, gave us the slip and galloped toward Caracas. This left us face to face with the other two, and in little more than as many minutes I had run my man through, and Carmen had hurled his to the ground with a cleft skull.

"I thought we should do it," he said as he sheathed his sword. "But before we ride on let us see who the fellows are, for, 'pon my soul, they have not the looks of a patrol from Caracas."

As he spoke, Carmen dismounted and closely examined the prostrate men's facings.

"_Caramba!_ They belong to the regiment of Irun."

"I remember them. They were in Murillo's _corp d'armee_ at Vittoria."

"I wish they were at Vittoria now. Their headquarters are at La Victoria!

Worse luck!"

"Why?"

"Because there may be more of them. You suggested just now the possibility of a squadron. How if we meet a regiment?"

"We should be in rather a bad sc.r.a.pe."