Manco, the Peruvian Chief Part 16

"I wish the Spaniards well, and have never instigated the Indians to rebel by word or deed," said I. "But you have not told me if you think me guilty."

"I do not. From what I have seen of you I think you incapable of doing so wrong a thing," he replied, kindly taking my hand. "I wish to save your life."

"I warmly thank you for what you say, Don Eduardo," I exclaimed; "but I cannot do what is proposed. If I am not guilty it will be more easy to die; but I trust that, as an Englishman, the government will not venture to put me to death unless my guilt is clearly proved."

"In these times no respect is paid to persons," he said. "You must not trust to such a hope; yet I would take a more satisfactory answer back to my colonel."

"I can send no other answer than what I have given," I replied; "you would from your heart despise me if I did."

At this he looked very melancholy. "Well, I fear it must be so, yet I will do all I can for you," he said, as again pressing my hand in token of his good-will, he rose to leave me.

Having ordered the sentries to return to their posts, he went to where my companion in misfortune was sitting. He conversed with him for some time; and though I had great confidence in Pedro, I was afraid that he might ultimately be tempted or threatened into compliance with the colonel's demands. I wronged him; for I afterwards learned that he remained firm to his honour. The night pa.s.sed away without any adventure; and wearied out by bodily fatigue and mental anxiety, though the hard ground was my couch, I slept till daylight. My conscience was, at all events, clear of wrong, and I never recollect to have slept so soundly. I awoke more refreshed than I had been for some time, and with a lighter heart in my bosom. Even hope revived, though I had little enough to ground it on. The air was pure and bracing, my nerves felt well strung, and the face of nature itself wore to my eyes a more cheerful aspect than it had done for many days. The troops advanced more rapidly than they had before done, and towards evening the spires of several churches rising from the plain, the rays of the sun lighting them brilliantly up, came in sight. They were in the town of San Pablo, the houses in which soon after appeared. As we approached, a number of the Spanish inhabitants came out to hear the news, and seemed highly gratified at the result of the expedition. The unfortunate Indians who were brought in as prisoners, chiefly attracted their attention; and I was shocked to hear the abuse they heaped on them. The miserable beings walked on with sullen and downcast looks, without deigning to reply.

They had no hope--they had lost the day, and they knew the fate which awaited them.

As we marched through the unpaved, dirty streets, the inhabitants came out of their houses to look at us, and to offer the troops refreshments and congratulations. We found the town full of people of all colours, of whom a large number were Indians who had refused to join the revolt.

In the centre of the town was the usual large plaza or square; and on one side of it was a building which we were told was the prison.

Towards it we were at once conducted. One side of the square was without buildings, a broad stream running past it, beyond which were cultivated fields, and gardens divided by walls. In the centre was a fountain, continually throwing up a jet of crystal water--a refres.h.i.+ng sight in that climate. The prison fronted the river. On one side was a church, and on the other the residence of the governor of the town, or of some other civil functionary. On either side of the buildings I have mentioned, were long rows of houses of various heights, though mostly of one story, very similar to those I have already described. Three streets, running at right angles to each other, led into the square. I have not without reason been thus particular in my description.

The soldiers who had us in charge, led us across the square, amid the shouts and jeers of the people. Even the blacks, the half-castes, and the Indians, came to stare at us with stupid wonder, calling us rebels, traitors, and robbers. The unfortunate Indians who had been made prisoners, went before us. The ma.s.sive gates of the prison were thrown open, and they were forced within. We came last.

My heart sunk within me as we entered those gloomy walls. The interior was already crowded with human beings, many of them Indians, found with arms in their hands, or suspected of an intention of joining the rebels.

We advanced along a low, arched gallery, intersected by several gates; and having pa.s.sed two of them, we turned to the left, along a narrower pa.s.sage, at the end of which we reached a small door. The gaoler, who showed the way with a torch, opened it; and, to my dismay, I saw that a steep flight of steps led down from it to some chambers below the ground.

"We are to be shut up in a dungeon, I fear," I whispered to Pedro.

"So that I am with you, I care not where I am," he answered.

Four of the soldiers followed us, to prevent our running away, I suppose; though we should have had but a poor chance of escaping even had we tried. The rest faced about, and marched back through the pa.s.sage. I hesitated on the top of the steps, so narrow and broken and dark did they look.

"Come along, Senores, come along!" said the gaoler; "but take care how you tread, for the steps are somewhat worn, and you may chance to break your necks some days before their time."

Though inclined to make merry at our expense, he held his torch so as to afford sufficient light for us to see our way. The soldiers laughed gruffly at his joke, bad as it was; and this made him attempt one or two others of a similar character.

"The gentlemen have not perhaps been accustomed to live in a palace, but they will find one here, with plenty of servants to attend on them; so I must beg to congratulate them," he said, chuckling as he spoke. "They will have plenty of playmates, though some of them will not remain very long, I suspect. They have a way here of making a speedy clearance at times."

We had now reached the bottom of the steps, and another small door, plated with iron and secured with two stout iron bars, appeared before us. The gaoler removed the bars, and taking a key from his girdle, opened the door.

"Go in there, Senores," he said. "It is somewhat dark at present, but you will get accustomed to it by-and-by."

Saying this, he forced us into the dungeon. I went in first, and stumbled down a couple of steps, nearly falling on my face. While I was holding out my hand to save Pedro from doing the same, the door was shut behind us, and barred and bolted as before. We found ourselves in almost total darkness, a small aperture near the ceiling alone affording a dim gleam of light, which served to show us the gloomy horrors of the place. Two ma.s.sive pillars supported the low arched roof, which seemed covered with moisture. The size of the place we could not tell, as the darkness prevented our seeing the walls at either side. The floor was unpaved, and composed of damp earth strewed with filth. We stood for some minutes holding each other's hands, without speaking, and without moving. We felt bewildered and stupified with the calamity which had befallen us. Pedro was the first to recover himself.

"They cannot keep us here for ever," he said, breaking the long silence.

"Others have been in worse places, and have escaped. Let us hope, Senor, for the best." He spoke in a cheerful tone, which had a reviving effect upon me.

"We will hope for the best, Pedro," I exclaimed. "Something may occur to deliver us. We must consider, however, what we have to do. I propose that we first make a tour of inspection round our dominions. It will give us some occupation, though idleness seems rather encouraged here."

"I would rather find the way out of our dominions, as you call them, than become better acquainted with them," said Pedro. "However, I am ready to set out whenever you please."

"We may possibly find the way out during our inspection," I remarked, as we began slowly and cautiously to move round the walls of the cell.

It was narrow but long, and extended, as I concluded, along part of one side of the inner court. We found two other pillars towards the further end, and we felt several rings secured in the walls, with heavy chains attached to them. Of their use there could be no doubt; and we congratulated ourselves that we were still allowed to have our limbs at liberty. In our walk we stumbled over an iron bar, and our feet knocked against some other rings attached to stones sunk in the floor.

"So some of the inmates of the mansion have been chained down like maniacs to the ground," Pedro observed. "We are indeed fortunate in escaping such treatment."

Though we searched most minutely, we could discover nothing which might suggest any means of escaping. We had just concluded an examination, and had returned to our seats, when the door of the dungeon was opened, and the gaoler appeared, bringing a jar of water and two loaves of brown bread.

Pedro examined his countenance. "Stop," he exclaimed, as the man was going away; "Sancho Lopez, I do believe you are an old friend of mine."

"In truth yes, and you saved my life," answered the gaoler. "But I must not stop--but I must not stop. Be at rest, I do not forget the matter."

Pedro afterwards told me how he had saved the Spanish gaoler's life in a snow-storm in the mountains, and we agreed that it was a great thing to have him as our friend.

We had been in the dungeon about a fortnight, and though it was damp and unwholesome in the extreme, we did not appear to have suffered in health.

One morning Sancho entered our cell with a cheerful countenance.

"I bring you good news, Senores," he said. "I have just received a visit from a young officer, who has, it appears, been making interest in your favour; and he has gained permission for your removal to a more airy abode. He seemed very anxious about you, and said he pitied you very much, though he was unable to obtain your liberty, which he wished to do. I hurried here to tell you this, as I thought it would give you pleasure. I must now go back to get the chambers ready for you, and will return with two of the under gaolers to conduct you to it. One caution I have to give you. Do not mind what I say to you before others, and never answer any of my remarks."

Without waiting for our reply and thanks, Sancho closed the prison door, and left us to ourselves.

"We have to thank Don Eduardo for this. I am sure he is the officer Sancho spoke of," I remarked.

"I think so also," answered Pedro. "I am glad that he has not asked us to pa.s.s our word not to escape."

"So am I," I observed. "While we were on our road here, I often contemplated the possibility of getting out of prison; but then I did not expect to be put into a dungeon like this."

For some time we could talk of nothing else but the prospect of making our escape.

Two hours or more had pa.s.sed away, and Sancho had not returned. We knew that he would not willingly have deceived us, but we began to be afraid that the governor had rescinded his permission for our occupying a room open to the air, and that we might be doomed to remain in our dungeon for weeks or months longer. At last we heard footsteps approaching the cell; the door was opened, and Sancho and his two a.s.sistants appeared.

"You are to accompany me, Senores," he said, in the gruff tone he had used at our entrance. "You are fortunate in coming out of that place alive; though some I have known would rather have had to remain there than be obliged to march out into the square yonder."

The a.s.sistants laughed as he said this, and we soon had too great a reason to know to what he alluded. Sancho led the way with a torch in his hand; and his a.s.sistants followed, holding us tightly by the arms, as if we would have tried to escape from them. I certainly could not have done so had I tried, for when I came to mount the steps, I found my knees trembling under me from weakness, arising from being shut up so long in the damp dungeon, though I had till then thought myself as strong as ever. We traversed a number of pa.s.sages, and mounted a second flight of steps, when we reached a small door plated with iron. Sancho opened it, and exhibited a room about six feet broad and eight feet long, with a window strongly barred at the further end. There were two chairs and a bedstead, with a straw mattress on it.

"Put the youngsters in there," he said gruffly to his a.s.sistants. "It is a room fit for an hidalgo of the first order. They may see and be seen if they choose to put their noses through the gratings."

On this the gaolers very unceremoniously thrust us in, and Sancho, without saying a word more, closed the door upon us. It appeared such an age since we had beheld the blue sky and the smiling face of nature, that we eagerly rushed to the window to discover what view could be obtained from it. We found, to our no small satisfaction, that it was not more than twelve or fifteen feet from the ground, and that it looked out on the great square I have before described. I have never forgotten the sensations of delight with which I inhaled the fresh air as it came through the open bars, and gazed once more on the bright sky, and the clear water of the river, the fields, and the trees beyond, and the human beings who were thronging the open s.p.a.ce below us. They all appeared so full of life and activity, and the murmur of their voices seemed like music to my ears, so long accustomed to the silence of the dungeon. The bars of the window were very strong, and placed very close together, so that, as Sancho had observed, we could only just get our noses through them. We were, however, glad to get them out as far as we could, and every moment I found the breeze restoring to my limbs their accustomed strength. My first impulse was to shake the bars to try and find whether any of them could be moved; but I restrained myself, lest some one from below should observe us and suspect that we were thinking of escaping. As we stood there, we heard several voices in piteous tones asking for alms; and by pressing our faces close to the bars, we discovered that some of the prisoners in the neighbouring rooms were letting down hats and baskets by lines at the ends of poles, like fis.h.i.+ng rods, to collect food and money from the pa.s.sers-by. We were still eagerly watching the scene, when I felt a hand laid on my shoulder. I started back, and saw Sancho. We had been so interested that we had not heard him enter. He placed his finger on his lips to impose silence.

"I have been so occupied that I could not come before," he whispered.

"I have brought you some white bread, and some meat, and fruit, and fresh water, and a little brandy to mix with it, which have been ordered by the friend who has obtained for you the indulgence of this room.

Here are the provisions." He put down in the chair a basket covered with a cloth. "I cannot remain, for a fresh set of prisoners have lately arrived, and I am employed in looking after them."

"Who are they?" I asked. "More Indians, I fear."

"Yes, Senor; there are a hundred of them. Poor fellows, I pity them, for they will certainly be shot in the great square out there before many days are over. There is a young chief among them. I grieve for him most, for he is a very fine fellow. He walked along as he came to prison like a prince, and heeded not the shouts and revilings of the mob who followed him and his companions. Their misery will soon be over, for they are to be tried to-morrow, and they have not a chance of escape."

"Can you tell me his name!" I asked anxiously; for I instantly thought of Manco.