CHAPTER XXV
THE RAVINE
Much to his disappointment, Tim was not a spectator of PresidentMollendo's triumphal entrance into his capital. He did not hear theeloquent oration delivered from the steps of the court house, nor was hepresent at the banquet at which the President fell on Mr. O'Hagan'sneck, and kissed him amid the frantic plaudits of the company. When Timsaw the troops charging up the defile, he set off to join them, leavingthe Japanese in charge of the guns. At some risk to his neck hescrambled down the face of the hill, and came up with the little army intime to take a share in the final scenes. When the victory was assured,Mr. O'Hagan sent him with Romana and a hundred men back to San Rosario,to report the defeat and death of the Prefect, and keep order in thetown.
San Rosario had quietly accepted the new regime. The few well-to-dopeople, who had suffered from the Prefect's levies, hoped that thesystem of benevolences was buried, and were prepared to give the newPresident a chance; the poorer folk cared little who their ruler was, orwhat the nature of the government, provided they were able to earn theirliving in peace. Senor Fagasta was perhaps the only unhappy man in thetown.
Finding that everything was peaceful and orderly in the town, Timthought he might venture to visit the hacienda, arrange for thenecessary repairs to be made to the house against his father's return,and reopen work on the plantations, which would soon become a wildernessthrough neglect. Accordingly, on the second evening after his arrival inSan Rosario, he rode over on his motor-cycle, accompanied by Romana onhorseback. Biddy Flanagan was still alone in possession of the house.She welcomed Tim heartily, but was less cordial to Romana: he was one of"them foreigners." Her joy at the approaching return of "the master"was dulled by distress at the bareness of the rooms. The establishmentof a republic was to her an insignificant event beside the loss of thebest "chainey," and military glory did not compensate the theft of thesilver spoons. And when, early next morning, she carried breakfast intothe dining-room, she mournfully drew attention to the fact that she hadhad to make the coffee in a delf jug.
"'Tis because the silver coffee-pot be took, Master Tim," she said."And there's no silver spoons for the eggs, and what will I say to themistress when she comes home!"
"We can get some more, Biddy," said Tim. "And really, I always thinkthat coffee tastes better out of a jug."
"'Deed now, that's true, but 'tis not for the likes of me to say so atall. If there was no difference between the kitchen and the dining-roomof a gentleman's house, what would the country be after coming to? SureI hope the villain is killed, and will not be the way of troubling usagain."
"I wonder what became of Pardo?" said Tim to Romana when the old womanwas gone.
"You may be sure he is not killed," said Romana. "Pardo is not the manto risk his skin in the fighting line."
"No, it may give him lumbago," rejoined Tim with a laugh. "I suppose hehas gone off with his loot. A good riddance! After breakfast you mightlook round the house and see what repairs are needed, while I go over tothe huts and tell the Jap women that their husbands are on the way home.It's a blessing none of the married men were killed except the onePierola shot."
Some twenty minutes later Tim set off on foot for the labourers' hutshalf a mile across the plantation. He followed a path that intersecteda field of sugar-cane, which grew so high that he was completelyconcealed. Presently it crossed a broad stretch of grass land separatingthe sugar from the coffee, and here Tim was surprised to see recenthoof-marks. None of his father's horses remained on the hacienda, andhe wondered who could have ridden in this direction. If the trackspointed towards the house he might have supposed that Felipe Durand hadcome over to see him; but they all led away from it, as though the riderhad come either from the stables, or from the meadow behind the house.
Curiosity piqued him to follow up the marks. He took no pains to walkquietly, but his footfall was silent on the grass. The tracks ledtowards the road that ran past Durand's house and ultimately to the Incaruins. After about a hundred yards the path bent to the right. Onarriving at the bend Tim started back. A little ahead a horse wasgrazing. A bundle was slung from its crupper. Just beyond, there was adisused well, and here Tim saw a man, whose back was towards him,turning the windlass. He stood partially concealed among the plants towatch. Presently a second bundle appeared over the edge of the well.The man untied it from the rope and turned with it in his arms towardsthe horse. Tim had already suspected his identity, and he now sawwithout surprise that it was Miguel Pardo.
Acting on impulse, he dashed forward, hoping to reach the thief beforehe could mount. But Pardo caught sight of him, vaulted into the saddle,and galloped towards the road. It was hopeless to pursue him on foot.Tim had his revolver, but he was not one to use it in cold blood.Instantly he thought of the cycle, which was in its shed at the back ofthe house. He sprinted back, started the engine, and in a few minuteswas dashing in chase.
He knew that Pardo, in spite of his start, must soon be overtaken, andhe had little doubt of the direction of his flight. Neither San Juannor San Rosario would be safe for him; he would almost certainly choosethe track to the Inca ruins; trusting in course of time to be able tomake his way round over the hills, and seek refuge in another provincewhere he was unknown.
Tim flew along to the track, wheeled into it, and looked ahead. Pardowas not in sight. Suddenly he remembered the broken bridge. It wouldcertainly not have been repaired. Tim wondered whether Pardo had heardof its destruction. In that case he would not have come this way, butwould have chosen the western track. If he was in ignorance of what hadhappened, he would be checked perforce at the ravine, and the chasewould soon be over. Even supposing he had followed the other track, Timthought that the speed of his cycle would allow him to ride to thebridge, make sure, return to the cross-roads, and still overtake thefugitive, who would no doubt slacken his pace when he supposed himselfto be unpursued.
As Tim passed Durand's house, Felipe came down the path. Tim afterwardsdiscovered that he had seen the horseman dashing by, and wondered whocould be so foolish as to ride along a track which within a few mileswas impassable.
"Pardo!" shouted Tim as he flashed past, and Durand ran for his horse tofollow the chase.
A mile beyond the house Tim caught sight of his quarry. In anotherminute or two he must turn at bay. No doubt he was armed, and Tim forthe first time realised that he might presently be involved in rather adesperate struggle. While the horse was galloping, Pardo, encumbered ashe was with his bundle, would be unable to take steady aim. But as soonas he came within sight of the bridgeless ravine, he would spring fromhis saddle and fire. Tim had set off in pursuit with the simple idea ofcapturing Pardo, and handing him over to the civic authorities for trialand punishment as a thief; but he saw now that he was not likely tosucceed without a fight.
The distance between horseman and cyclist rapidly diminished. The longhill beyond the ravine came in sight, but the ruins of the bridge wereas yet hidden by the short acclivity beyond which the track dipped.Pardo was just reaching the top of this ascent as Tim arrived at thebottom. There were only fifty yards between them. Before Tim wasprepared for the movement Pardo suddenly made a half-turn in the saddleand fired. The shot flew wide, and Tim, edging in on the near side ofthe track, so that Pardo could only use his revolver again if he turnedcompletely round, or twisted to the left and fired over his shoulder,rode relentlessly on up the ascent. In a few seconds he expected thefinal tussle.
On gaining the brow of the hill Pardo checked, drew his restive horseacross the road, and pointing his revolver steadily, fired. Tim hadguessed his intention, and his own shot rang out almost simultaneously.Pardo, not allowing for his altitude, fired too high: Tim's aim wasspoilt by his bobbing movement on the machine, and his shot wounded thehorse instead of the man. Before either could fire again, the situationwas changed with a suddenness that for a moment took him aback. Thehorse, a
lready alarmed by the clatter of the engine and the sound of theshots, was rendered frantic by its wound. Springing round on its hindlegs, it took the bit between its teeth and bolted down the slopetowards the ravine.
When Tim gained the top, he realised with horror the desperate peril ofhis enemy, and instantly forced down his brakes and stopped the machine,in the hope that with the cessation of the noise the animal's terrorwould lessen in time for its career to be checked. Pardo, a momentafter the descent had begun, saw the hideous gap in front of him, andmade a desperate effort to rein up. But it was too late. The maddenedhorse galloped on blindly, came to the edge of the chasm, andinstinctively made a frantic leap for the opposite bank. It jumpedshort by several feet. Then, with a scream that rang in Tim's ears formany a day, horse and rider plunged to the bottom.
Tim had already leapt off his machine. He ran forward and at no smallrisk clambered down the steep side of the ravine. Both horse andhorseman were dead, amid a litter of broken pottery and scattered plate,which had burst from the bundles. Tim shrank from touching any of thestolen property. White to the lips, he climbed up to the track, andstaggered into the arms of Durand, who had followed on horseback.
CHAPTER XXVI
HANDSOME ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
One evening, a few weeks after the close of the brief campaign, thetown-hall of San Juan presented a picturesque and even brilliantspectacle. All the important people, and a good many of theunimportant, of the capital and of San Rosario were assembled inresponse to the President's invitation, to celebrate the foundation ofthe Republic. Two long tables ran the length of the hall; at the top across table was ranged beneath a shield bearing the Mollendo arms. ThePresident occupied the centre seat. On his right hand sat GeneralO'Hagan, on his left a young captain of the same name. Next in order tothese were the principal actors in this little drama: Colonel Zegarra,his friend the lawyer, Dr. Pereira, Nicolas Romana, Pedro Galdos, theDurands, father and son--for Senor Durand, having contributed to theMollendist war-fund, had apparently determined to get something for hismoney.
Two personages whom one would hardly have expected to see there wereSenor Fagasta and Captain Pierola. Senor Mollendo had been informed byTim of the warning given by the gobernador, which had resulted in thediscomfiture of Pardo's night attack on the house. The President arguedfrom this that Senor Fagasta had his good points; and being anxious toconciliate the officials under the old regime he reinstated the burlygentleman in his former office. For the same reason he offered toCaptain Pierola, now recovered of his wound, the command of therepublican forces, which Mr. O'Hagan, deaf to all entreaties, hadrelinquished.
In a balcony at the opposite end of the hall sat a bevy of ladies, towatch the feasting in which they, angelically, were not to partake, andto hear the speeches that would follow. Mrs. O'Hagan sat in the centrebeside Senora Mollendo. The younger ladies, dressed with all the graceand charm of which the Peruvian belle is mistress, were impatient forthe end of the tiresome preliminaries: the banquet in which they couldnot share, the speeches which some of them had already heard rehearsed,had less attractions for them than the dance which was to round off theproceedings.
The table decorations were unusual. The vases were filled with leaves,blossoms, and berries of the nasturtium, of which homely plant everyguest had a flower in his button-hole.
The courses were handed round; the glasses of wine and pisco were filledand emptied and filled again; and then the President rose. A smilebeamed upon his benevolent features as he surveyed the cheering company.A broad band of orange satin formed a graceful loop over his whitewaistcoat, and a large diamond in his shirt-front flashed as it caughtthe rays of the innumerable candles. He was a dignified and impressivefigure.
When the cheers had subsided, he began to speak. After a fewintroductory sentences, he launched into a summary of the events whichhad led up to this culminating scene. He described the birth of theRepublic, enunciated with great eloquence the principles which wouldgovern his administration, and then, turning to personal matters,announced the honours and dignities which he had conferred on certain ofthe gentlemen whom he saw on either side. He made graceful referencesto the legal attainments of Senor Fagasta, to the military abilities ofCaptain Pierola, to the loyal services of Senores Pedro Galdos andNicolas Romana, whom he had appointed respectively treasurer andsecretary of the Republic. Then, after an expressive pause, heproceeded:
"Gentlemen, on this great and auspicious occasion I have a duty toperform---a duty of which I acquit myself with all the ardour of anoverflowing heart. There are epochs in the life of nations when thefirmament is obscured by dark aggregations of cloud, which exclude theradiance of heaven's bright luminaries, and among which the thunderrumbles with awful and portentous reverberation. At such a period ofdistress and gloom, when Rome, the heart and centre of the ancientworld, saw herself threatened by pestilent hosts of waspish barbarians,the eyes of men turned in their trouble towards a simple farmer, whopursued the avocations of bucolic life in his rural retreat, amid soundsno more horrific than the lowing of his cattle and the gutturalejaculations of his swine. To him repaired a deputation of hisdespairing countrymen, who found him cleaving the stubborn soil with hislabouring plough, and besought him to quit those haunts of industry andpeace, and, exchanging the gleaming ploughshare for the well-temperedsword, the smock of Ceres for the shining corslet of Mars, to returnwith them and save the State.
"You know, gentlemen, the sequel of that momentous domiciliary visit.You know how Cincinnatus marshalled his hosts, led them against theenveloping invaders, and having smitten Volscians and AEquians withirresistible might, laid aside the implements of war, and withdrew toreplace the yoke upon his toiling oxen, and ruminate in rusticsimplicity upon the vicissitudes of mortal things.
"Gentlemen, we too have our Cincinnatus. We have in our midst agentleman who, driven from his peaceful fields by the shameless greed oftyranny, threw in his lot with the despairing victims of a rapaciousdespot: who, having laid down the sword which he had wielded withconspicuous dexterity in his youth against the enemies of his adoptedcountry, girded it on in his maturer years at the call of an oppressedand suffering community. Gentlemen, it is to him we owe the inceptionof the reign of peace and prosperity in this elevated region. I bid youraise your glasses and drain them to the health of our illustriousfriend and liberator, our Cincinnatus, Senor General O'Hagan."
The President's speech was hailed with a chorus of vivas as the companysprang to their feet to honour the toast. Handkerchiefs fluttered inthe ladies' gallery. Tim, catching Durand's eye, winked, and his friendresponded with a look which meant "Look out! The old buffer hasn't doneyet." Tim wondered what his father would say in answer to thiseffusion. He found that the President, instead of resuming his seatwhen the cheers had died away, remained standing, took a sip from hisglass, and went on:
"History does not record whether Cincinnatus was a married man, but,indulging our imaginations, we may suppose that he had a wife andfamily. We may see with our mind's eye the homely Roman matron, leavingthe meal-tub when her husband broke to her the fateful news, and wipingthe flour from her industrious hands that she might gird him with thesword, and furbish his shield, and arrange the folds of his toga incomely dignity. We may picture his sons and daughters gazing withadmiration not unmixed with awe at their heroic father, watching him ashe bestrode his fields with the proud senators who had brought thepeople's summons, gazing with longing eyes day after day into the mistydistance, wondering with anxious fears how their beloved progenitor wasfaring in the stress and heat of strife. We can imagine their pride andgladness when he returned, crowned with the laurel wreath of victory,and, so far as history relates, without a wound. We can see themgathered about his knee, on the winter nights when the pine-logscrackle, and the wolf's long howl undulates across the marshes, and hangupon his lips as he relates the story of great doings on the strickenfield.
"Thes
e, I say, are the pictures which imagination paints for us; but weneed no aid from imagination to behold the domestic life of our ownCincinnatus. _Integer vitae, sceleris purus_, as the great Roman sang,he has lived among us, in a home graced by the presence of a beauteousspouse, and brightened by the lively merits of a gallant youth. Suchpraise and gratitude as we owe to the father we owe also in no smallmeasure to the son, who sits beside me in all the glow of healthyjuvenility, blushing with ingenuous pride in the achievements of hisnoble sire. What need to recount, gentlemen, the exploits of thisyouthful warrior! Modestly as he himself has veiled them, the admirationof his devoted men could not be silenced, and they proclaim his prowesswith unbated enthusiasm. Picture the scene, gentlemen, when, pursuedfor long miles by the mounted warriors of the tyrant, our dauntlessfriend sped on unfaltering on his matchless steed, and was not abashedwhen he beheld the yawning gulf unbridged before him. For him Fate hadnot ordained the sacrificial leap of Marcus Curtius; the safety of theState did not demand his death. Flashing like a meteor to the very brinkof the abyss, he defied the laws of Nature, and soared through thestartled air with the swift legerity of a mountain bird. Thuswonderfully preserved from peril behind and before, he played a manfulpart in the final scenes of this glorious revolution, and, in the wordsof the august orator of Rome, _de republica bene est meritus_. I bidyou raise your glasses, and drain them to the health of Senor CapitanO'Hagan."
The toast was hailed with thunderous applause. Tim sat with downcasteyes, wishing that the floor would open and swallow him. "I hope togoodness the old josser is done now!" he thought. But the Presidentwaited with a benignant smile until silence was restored, then went on:
"It is known to you, gentlemen, that the Senor Capitan is the firstrecipient of the Order of the Nasturtium, which I have founded incelebration of the new era upon which we have entered. Since it becomesus to invoke the gracious countenance of feminine loveliness upon theorder, I have inscribed at the head of the roll the name of the SenoraO'Hagan."
Here he bowed very gallantly towards the balcony, and Tim, glancing up,saw his mother incline her head, and raise her handkerchief to hermouth, as if to hide a smile.
"It is known to you also, gentlemen," the President continued, "that indeference to the unanimous wish of the citizens, I have consented that astatue of myself shall be erected in the plaza of this town, not in anyspirit of vainglory, but as a permanent witness of the triumph of theprinciples which I profess. But I deemed it unfitting that the sistertown of San Rosario should be without a similar memorial, and I havetherefore taken upon myself to order, from Paris, the home of art, twoother statues, to stand in the plaza of our neighbour. The one willrepresent the Senor General as Cincinnatus, garbed in the toga ofancient Rome, with a sword crossed upon a ploughshare at his feet. Theother will exhibit the effigy of the Senor Capitan. It was a matter ofmuch deliberation how to mould this second statue that it might form aharmonious companion of the first. As you are aware, the Romans did notanticipate the triumphs of the inventive modern mind. They did notpossess the motor-bicycle. But by dint of much thought I have reconciledthe old with the new. The Senor Capitan will appear as Mercury, themessenger of the gods, with his caduceus in his hand, and his wingedfeet planted on a globe. These statues will face each other in thepublic square, and proclaim to future generations the features and thecharacteristics of the two gentlemen whose achievements and merits wehonour so heartily to-night."
The President at last sat down. Mr. O'Hagan, looking supremelyuncomfortable, thanked him and the company, for himself and Tim, for theflattering honours that had been paid to them; and after speeches fromSenor Fagasta, Colonel Zegarra, and half a dozen other notables, theproceedings came to an end, and the hall was cleared for dancing.
"I say, old chap," said Durand, when he had an opportunity of speakingto Tim, "won't you feel rather cold as Mercury?"
"Shut up!" growled Tim. "Old Moll's off his chump. But he doesn't meanit."
"But he does!"
"Well then, I'll waylay the silly old thing on the road, and smash it tobits. I never heard of such silly rot."
But these violent measures were not necessary. Every now and thenduring the next few months Durand put Tim in a rage by announcing thatthe statues had left Paris, that they had reached Lima, that they wereon the road. But the truth is that the financial straits to which thenew republic was soon reduced have hindered the realisation of PresidentMollendo's generous dream, and up to the present the plaza of SanRosario is destitute of classic statuary. Cincinnatus lives verycontentedly on his farm, and Mercury is now leading a grimy existence insome famous engineering shops on the Tyne.
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