by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
LOOKING OUT FOR A LANDAU.
From the way Rivas treated the "billetita" after he had finished readingit, one unacquainted with its contents might have supposed they had madehim either mad angry, or madly jealous. Instead of taking it uptenderly, and treasuring it away, he planted his muddy boot upon it,with a back scrape brought it into the main sewer, still keeping itunder the mud and trampling it with both feet, lifted and set downalternately, the while shovelling away, as though he had forgotten allabout it. Not so, however. The tread-mill action was neitheraccidental nor involuntary, but for a purpose. The writer had committedherself in sub-signing a portion of her name, as by other particulars,and should the letter fall into hands he knew of, her danger would be asgreat as his own.
In a few seconds, however, any uneasiness about this was at an end. Themost curious _chiffonier_ could not have deciphered a word written onthat sheet, which by the churning he had submitted it to must have beenreduced to a very pulp.
During all this time no one had taken notice of his proceedings, noteven the man chained to him, except by an occasional side glance. ForKearney, well aware of what he was at, to draw attention from him hadgot up a wordy demonstration with the dwarf--to all appearance aquarrel. There was real anger on the side of the latter; for the"gringo," as he contemptuously called the Irishman, had cruelly mockedhis deformity. A cruelty which gave pain to the mocker himself; but hecould think of no other way to secure inattention to Rivas, and thisefficiently did. Both talking the tongue of the country, their war ofwords, with some grotesque gestures which Kearney affected, engrossedthe attention of all within sight or hearing; so that not an eye wasleft for the surreptitious reader of the letter.
When the sham quarrel came to an end--which it did soon as he whocommenced it saw it should--the knot of spectators it had drawn arounddispersed, leaving things as before. But not as before felt Rivas andKearney. Very different now the thoughts stirring within them, bothtrying to appear calm while under the greatest agitation. For they hadagain contrived to bring their ears together, and the latter now knewall about the contents of the Condesa's letter, their purport beingfully explained, nor did they draw apart, till a thorough understandinghad been established between them as to the action they should take.
All this without loss of time was translated to Cris Rock, who was toldalso of their resolve to attempt to escape, in which the Texan was buttoo glad to take part. Kearney would have stayed there, and gone backinto the Acordada, loathsome gaol though it was, sooner than leave hisold filibustering comrade behind. He could never forget the incident ofEl Salado, nor cease to feel gratitude to the man who had offered togive up life for him.
But there was no need for Rock being left behind. Rivas himself wishedit otherwise, for more than one reason; but one good one, that insteadof obstructing their escape he would be an aid to it.
The hunchback alone was not let into their secret. No doubt he toowould be glad to get free from his chains, since he was under a sentenceof imprisonment for life. But who could tell whether at the last momenthe might not purchase pardon by turning out and betraying them? Theyknew him to be vile enough even for that, and so kept him in the darkabout their design.
There was no need of further premeditation or contrivance of plans.That had all been traced out for them in the singular epistle signed"Ysabel," and a few whispered words from one to the other completed theunderstanding of it, with what was to be done. From the time this wassettled out, never looked three pair of eyes more eagerly along a streetthan did theirs along the Calle de Plateros; never was a carriage moreanxiously awaited than a landau which should show itself with hood up,drawn by a pair of grey horses.
It is now well on the afternoon, and the "beauty and fashion" of theMexican metropolis were beginning to appear in carriages, with chivalryon horseback, along the line of streets leading to the Paseo Nuevo. Theprocession of the morning would little affect the usual evening display;and already several equipages had rolled past the place where thechain-gang was at work. But as yet appeared not the one so anxiouslylooked-for, and the half-hour was up!
Still ten minutes more without any sign of it!
More anxious now were the three prisoners, who contemplated escape,though not at all to the same degree, or for the same reason. Kearneyfeared there had been a failure, from betrayal by the coachman spoken ofas so trustworthy; he did not think of suspecting Pepita. The Texan,too, believed some hitch had occurred, a "bit o' crooked luck," as heworded it. Not so Rivas. Though, as the others, chafing at the delay,he still had confidence in the carriage coming, as he had in thedirecting head of one he expected to see inside it. It was beingpurposely kept back, he fancied; likely as not, lest it might attractattention by being too early on the street.
Whatever the cause, his conjectures were soon brought to an end--andabruptly--by seeing the thing itself.
"_Bueno_!" he mentally exclaimed, then muttering to the others--"Yonderit comes! _Frisones pardes_ coachman in sky-blue and silver--be ready_camarados_."
And ready they were, as panthers preparing to spring. Rock and Rivas,as Kearney himself, were now out of the sewer and up on the street; allthree still making believe to work; while the dwarf seemed to suspectthere was something in the wind, but could not guess what.
He knew the instant after, when a strong hand, grasping him by thecollar, lifted him off his feet, raising and tossing him further aloft,as though he had been but a rat.