At the Point of the Sword

by Herbert Hayens

  CHAPTER XXIX.

  HOME AGAIN.

  Home again! The weary journey was at an end.

  I had crossed the desolate mountains, and was riding into Lima. Thecity was gay with flags and bunting; decorations abounded on all sides;joy-bells pealed, and the streets resounded with the merry laughter andchatter of the citizens.

  News of the brilliant victory at Ayacucho had evidently preceded me.

  I longed to ride home at a gallop and throw myself into my mother'sarms; I yearned eagerly for a glimpse of my father's face. I was (donot think the confession weak) utterly homesick. Duty, however,claimed me a while longer, and I turned my horse's head toward theGovernment House.

  It was not possible to move at more than a foot-pace. The crowd surgedaround me; little children, garlanded with flowers, ran close to myhorse's hoofs. I was terribly afraid some of them would be trampled todeath.

  Many soldiers were there, too, their uniforms spick and span, andunspotted by the soil of the Andes. Mine was dirty, bloodstained, andnot altogether free from rents. I rode carefully, but my eyes wereheavy and my limbs ached with fatigue.

  Darting suddenly from the throng, a man seized my bridle-rein and criedaloud, "A soldier from Ayacucho! Here is one of our brave deliverers!"

  "A soldier from Ayacucho! Here is one of our bravedeliverers!"]

  Instantly I was surrounded by the crowd, which pressed me so closelythat my horse could barely move. Viva after viva rent the air;laughing girls and women half smothered me with flowers; men marchedbeside me or fell into line behind, forming a kind of triumphalprocession. One would have thought I was the saviour of the country--asecond Bolivar!

  Thus, laughing, cheering, and singing, they escorted me to theGovernment House, where, leaving my astonished horse with the guards, Ihurried inside. An official, in all the glory of a gorgeous uniform,demanded my business, and remarked haughtily that the president wasengaged.

  "Tell him," said I, "that a lieutenant of the Hussars of Junin is herewith dispatches from General Sucre."

  After waiting a few minutes, I was conducted through the spacious hallto a room guarded by a file of soldiers. My attendant knocked timidlyat the door, which was immediately opened, and I entered the apartment.

  Bolivar sat at a table dictating letters to his secretary and talkingto several officers of high rank. His complexion seemed sallower thanever, his dark hair had more of gray in it, but his eyes had lost noneof their penetrating keenness.

  I saluted and stood at attention, waiting for him to speak.

  "Ah," exclaimed he, in his loud, rasping voice, and turning his eyesaskance as he usually did in conversation, "you are LieutenantCrawford! I have not forgotten you. How is it that you still haveonly two stripes?" pointing to the stripes of silver lace round mycuff, which denoted the rank of lieutenant.

  "I do not know, general," I replied.

  "Your Excellency!" corrected one of the officers standing near.

  "Let him alone!" cried Bolivar; "he is a soldier, and 'general' comesmore naturally to his lips.--Where are the dispatches?"

  I presented them.

  "Humph! enough work here for the rest of the day," said he on glancingthrough them.--"Garcia," turning to one of the officers, "countermandthe reception; I shall be too busy.--Ah, here is a letter from Miller!I see he commends you very highly, young man, and desires to bring youto my notice. There is nothing I like so much as rewarding truemerit.--Garcia, make out Lieutenant Crawford's commission as captain inthe Hussars of Junin, for bravery on the field.--I congratulate you,captain. I see by your face you are anxious to go."

  After thanking him for my promotion, I said, "Yes, general; I have notseen my father and mother for a very long time."

  "Your father--ah, now I remember. He is no friend to me--would be gladto see me out of Peru, in fact, eh? Well, I shall go some day. But heis a true man for all that, and an Englishman. I love the English.Perhaps it is as well for your father that I do. Tell him, CaptainCrawford, that Bolivar has some good points."

  "He has already recognized them, general," I answered.

  "He conceals his discovery well, then. But I will not keep you longer.Present yourself at my levee in the morning, and don't forget to wearthat extra band of lace."

  "There is no fear of that, general," said I, with a smile; "I am tooproud of the honour."

  Apparently the remark pleased him, as he was very gracious when I tookmy leave, though the officers-in-waiting looked at me as if I had beenoverbold.

  Out again into the street. The crowd had dispersed, and only a fewpeople were about as I once more mounted my jaded animal. Now forhome! Forward, good horse! My spirits rose with every step; the tiredfeeling left me; I could have sung aloud for very joy.

  The sight of the Montilla hacienda sobered my happiness somewhat. Thegrounds were trim and well-kept, but the dwelling looked untenanted.What had become of Rosa? Perhaps--yes, that must be it--she wasstaying with my mother. I urged my horse into a spasmodic gallop, butthe poor beast soon resumed his old pace.

  There was a horse behind me, though, that could gallop. I turnedquickly to see who the rider was, and laughed gaily.

  "Why, Jack!" cried the faithful Jose, his eyes brimful of pleasure.

  "Captain Crawford, if you please!" I interrupted with assumed dignity.

  "Captain or general, it's all the same to me, as long as you're homeagain, Jack, with no scratch on you! Hurrah! won't there be a fuss inthe house to-night!" and away he went at breakneck speed toward thegate.

  "Better so," said I, jogging along. "He'll be able to prepare them alittle.--Come, old boy," to my horse, "can't you manage even a trot?Well, never mind; we're nearly there."

  The gate of the park was wide open, and inside stood more than half ofmy father's servants. They could not wait for me to reach thecourtyard. How they cheered, to be sure! It was a pleasant foretasteof the welcome that awaited me.

  Good old Antonio was at the little gate, so I dismounted and spoke aword with him, though my feet itched to be dashing along the courtyard.Then I sent my horse to the stables, with strict orders that it shouldbe carefully groomed and fed, and made comfortable.

  At last! My heart beat loudly; my head was dizzy; I could barelydistinguish the figures in the hall. But my mother's arms were roundme, her lips pressed close to mine, in a fond embrace.

  Then came my father's welcome, and presently, in the brilliantly-litdrawing-room, a young girl came forward and placed her hand in mine.She was dressed in black, and looked somewhat sad and careworn, as iflife had not been particularly pleasant of late.

  "Welcome home, Juan," said she softly; and I saw by her face she wasthinking of the night when I had ridden hurriedly away in the vainendeavour to save her father's life. We did not speak of it then, andwhen, after changing my clothes, I returned to the drawing-room, Rosawas not there.

  "She has gone to her own room," explained my mother, noticing my lookof disappointment. "It would have been difficult for the poor child tostay with us this first evening."

  "She has heard of her father's death, then?"

  "Yes," said my father, quickly and with a warning glance. "She knowsthat the Indians shot him, thinking he had been in correspondence withthe Royalists."

  I understood at once that my father was aware of the truth, but that,with his usual kindly thought, he had kept it from both the bereavedgirl and my mother. He never alluded to the miserable incident, nordid I; and Rosa was left in ignorance of the real reason for herfather's untimely end.

  Of course, we sat late talking over my adventures in the mountains, andof the terrible battle which had secured the independence of Peru.

  "Yes," said my father confidently, "whatever else happens, theSpaniards will never again rule over this country; their power isbroken. But we are not yet out of the wood: as a Peruvian, I stillfear Bolivar's ambition."

  "Oh," I exclaimed gaily, "I had forgotten Bolivar! He has made me acaptain!" a
nd I told them all about my interview with the celebratedgeneral.

  "I admit his good points," laughed my father; "but I do not like to seeone person invested with such tremendous power. Still, there is nodoubt we owe our liberty in great part to his wonderful energy,together with his determination never to acknowledge defeat. He hastoiled day and night like a slave."

  "I shall be glad when your regiment returns, Juan," said my mother. "Iam longing to see your brave friends, and especially Alzura. I seem toknow him quite well already."

  "You are sure to like him, mother. He is a delightful companion, fullof fun, and always laughing and joking. Plaza is older and more of asoldier, but I owe a great deal to his kindness."

  "We will endeavour to repay it, my boy," said she brightly, kissing megood-night. "Don't stay up too long. Remember you have to attend thelevee in the morning."

  When she had retired, I asked my father for news of Raymon Sorillo.

  "He is still serving against the Royalists, but his band has sadlydiminished. He came here secretly one night, and informed me of yourattempt to rescue Montilla. I think he was very angry; but he said itwas a daring act, and almost successful. However, he bears no malice,and is as ready as ever to stand your friend."

  "Ugh!" said I, getting up with a shiver; "I hope I shall not need hisassistance."

  The next day, after attending the levee, where Bolivar was particularlygracious, I obtained an indefinite leave of absence, and returned home.

  Rosa was alone, and though rather dreading to be asked about thebusiness of the silver key, I thought it best to get the interviewover. As it happened, I need not have worried myself at all.

  "I wanted to see you, Juan," she said, giving me her hand. "It seemsages ago when I sent you out on that terrible errand. I ought not tohave done it; but my father's life was at stake, and I did not think ofthe danger to you."

  "Think no more of it, Rosa. After all, the danger was trifling; theIndians would not have hurt me."

  "I don't quite understand the story," she said thoughtfully, "but Iknow you risked your life."

  "There was little risk. I had a slight chance to rescue your fatherfrom the Indians, and seized it. Unfortunately the attempt failed, andI was captured by the Royalists. So in one way you did me a good turn;for while the other fellows were starving and fighting in themountains, I was pretty comfortably off."

  "But you were in the great battle?"

  "Yes, I was. I escaped from prison chiefly to please a mad-brainedyoung lieutenant of my regiment. But it is all past now, Rosa, andthere will be no more fighting."

  "I am sorry for his Majesty," she said simply, "and for the loyalgentlemen who have died for him."

  "There were some splendid fellows amongst the Royalists," I said, andproceeded to tell her the story of the gallant Santiago Mariano.

  "He must have been a brave man, Juan!"

  "He was, and he had equally brave comrades. Now that the struggle isover, they will join us, and we shall all work together in peace forthe prosperity of our common country. The war has been a terribleevil, but I am hoping that much good may come from it. I dream of agrand future for Peru, and of a time when the Land of the Sun shallrecover its ancient glory."

  "I hope your dream will come true, Juan. I am sure you will try tomake it do so," she said. "But you must not expect me to be pleasedthat we are no longer loyal subjects of the Spanish king."

  * * * * * *

  Here ends the story of my adventures during the War of Independence.The Spanish power was completely crushed; but, as my father hadforetold, there were still many misfortunes in store for our unhappycountry. The men who had fought so hard for liberty quarrelled amongthemselves. There were endless disputes and conspiracies, and manysoldiers who had bravely faced death on the battlefield were executedby their fellow-countrymen.

  For two years Bolivar ruled at Lima. He was at the height of hisglory. He had freed Venezuela, New Granada, and Ecuador from theSpaniards, and joined them into the one country of Colombia. UpperPeru he had formed into another country called Bolivia, and he was thereal master of Peru proper.

  His boundless ambition, however, overreached itself. Enemies rose upagainst him on all sides. He was driven from power, and seven yearsafter the battle of Ayacucho died a broken-hearted man.

  After his departure from Lima, my father's Spanish friend, General LaMar, who had once been Governor of Callao, was elected president, andthe country settled down into a state of something like order.

  There still remain a few personal matters to be recorded before my penis finally laid aside.

  Among those who opposed Bolivar's rule in Peru, none was more bitter orreckless than the guerilla chief, Raymon Sorillo. Unfortunately forhim, the war had greatly weakened the society of the Silver Key. Hisbravest men and ablest lieutenants had died fighting, and he was leftwith only a shadow of his former power.

  Undaunted by this, he openly defied Bolivar's authority. For severalmonths he held his own against the regular troops, but at last, beingcaptured, was tried as a traitor, and condemned to death.

  My father made strenuous efforts to save him, and would have succeededbut for Sorillo himself.

  "The man is a desperate ruffian," said Bolivar, in answer to myfather's appeal for mercy; "but I will pardon him on condition that hetakes the oath of allegiance and swears to obey the laws."

  Overjoyed by his success, my father hurried to the prison where Sorillowas confined. The doughty mountaineer refused the offer with scorn.

  "I took up arms for the independence of Peru," said he, "not toexchange the tyranny of the Spaniards for that of a Venezuelanadventurer. I thank you, senor, from my heart, but I prefer death tothese conditions."

  My father stayed with him nearly the whole day, but could not shake hisresolve. So in the early morning the redoubtable chief was led intothe prison yard, and was placed near a wall. Some of the soldierswished to bandage his eyes, but he would not allow it.

  "No," said he; "I have looked in the face of death too closely and toooften to fear it. Fire! I shall not tremble."

  Thus he died, and whatever else may be said, it cannot be denied that,in his own headstrong, obstinate way, he was faithful to the cause forwhich many better men had laid down their lives.

  Of my friend Plaza it is only necessary to say that, through GeneralMiller's influence as well as by his own merit, he rapidly advanced tohigh office, being made governor of one of the inland provinces. Hehas paid me several visits since he left the hussars, and his soleregret is that Cordova did not live to share in the general goodfortune.

  An old acquaintance, who has also since done well in the world, isBarriero. When the victory at Ayacucho became known, the prisoners onthe island rose in revolt, and overpowered their guards. Barrieroplaced himself at their head, seized all the arms and ammunition, andformed the patriots into a company. Then, assisted by some Indians, hecrossed the morass and marched to Cuzco, where, to his joy andastonishment, he heard that Alzura and I had safely escaped across thedreaded swamp.

  Alzura resigned his commission shortly after the regiment returned toLima. He succeeded to a fine estate near the capital, and is one ofour most frequent visitors. My father is very fond of him, and as formy mother, I sometimes say she thinks more of him than of myself;indeed, the dear fellow has almost become like a second son to her.

  Jose is still my father's right-hand man. He has long since amassed asnug fortune; but I expect he will die in the old home, where he is anesteemed and valued and trusty friend.

  Felipe Montilla's hacienda no longer stands desolate. Rosa has againtaken up her residence there, but under the name of Crawford, andemploys me, as my father jokingly says, to look after her estates. Sheis still a Royalist at heart, but as the years pass she becomes moreand more reconciled to the changes which have taken place since Peruobtained its independence

  AT THE POINT OF THE SWORD.

 
THE END.