by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER FIFTY SIX.
A DAY OF SUSPENSE.
Dawn was just beginning to show over the eastern _Cordilleras_, itsaurora giving a rose tint to the snowy cone of Popocatepec, as theHussars passed back through San Augustin. The bells of the _paroquia_had commenced tolling matins, and many people abroad in the streets,hurrying toward the church, saw them--interrogating one another as towhere they had been, and on what errand bound.
But before entering the _pueblo_ they had to pass under the same eyesthat observed them going outward on the other side; these more keenlyand anxiously scrutinising them now, noting every file as it came insight, every individual horseman, till the last was revealed; thenlighting up with joyous sparkle, while they, thus observing, breathedfreely.
For the soldiers had come as they went, not a man added to their number,if none missing, but certainly no prisoners brought back!
"They've got safe off," triumphantly exclaimed the Countess, when therearmost files had forged past, "as I told you they would. I knew therewas no fear after they had been warned."
That they had been warned both were by this aware, their messengerhaving meanwhile returned and reported to that effect. He had met theHussars on their way up, but crouching among some bushes, he had beenunobserved by them; and, soon as they were well out of the way, slippedout again and made all haste home.
He had brought back something more than a mere verbal message--a_billetita_ for each of the two who had commissioned him.
The notes were alike, in that both had been hastily scribbled, and inbrief but warm expression of thanks for the service done to the writers.Beyond this, however, they were quite different. It was the firstepistle Florence Kearney had ever indited to Luisa Valverde, and ran infervid strain. He felt he could so address her. With love long indoubt that it was even reciprocated, but sure of its being so now, hespoke frankly as passionately. Whatever his future, she had his heart,and wholly. If he lived, he would seek her again at the peril of athousand lives; if it should be his fate to die, her name would be thelast word on his lips.
"_Virgen Santissima_! Keep him safe!" was her prayer, as she finisheddevouring the sweet words; then, refolding the sheet on which they werewritten, secreted it away in the bosom of her dress--a treasure moreesteemed than aught that had ever lain there.
The communication received by the Condesa was less effusive, and more tothe point of what, under present circumstances, concerned the writer,as, indeed, all of them. Don Ruperto wrote with the confidence of alover who had never known doubt. A man of rare qualities, he was trueto friendship as to his country's cause, and would not be false to love.And he had no fear of her. His _liens_ with Ysabel Almonte were suchas to preclude all thought of her affections ever changing. He knewthat she was his--heart, soul, everything. For had she not given himevery earnest of it, befriended him through weal and through woe? Norhad he need to assure her that her love was reciprocated, or his fealtystill unfaltering; for their faith, as their reliance, was mutual. Hisletter, therefore, was less that of a lover to his mistress than onebetween man and man, written to a fellow-conspirator, most of it infigurative phrase, even some of it in cypher!
No surprise to her all that; she understood the reason. Nor was thereany enigma in the signs and words of double signification; withoutdifficulty she interpreted them all.
They told her of the anticipated rising, with the attempt to be made onOaxaca, the hopes of its having a success, and, if so, what would comeafter. But also of something before this--where he, the writer, and hisFree Lances would be on the following night, so that if need arose shecould communicate with him. If she had apprehension of danger to him,he was not without thought of the same threatening herself and herfriend too.
Neither were they now; instead, filled with such apprehension. In viewof what had occurred on the preceding evening, and throughout the night,how could they be other? The dwarf must know more than he had revealedin that dialogue overheard by Jose. In short, he seemed aware ofeverything--the _cochero's_ complicity as their own. The free surrenderof their watches and jewellery for the support of the escaped prisonerswere of itself enough to incriminate them. Surely there would beanother investigation, more rigorous than before, and likely to have adifferent ending.
With this in contemplation, their souls full of fear, neither went thatmorning to matins. Nor did they essay to take sleep or rest. Instead,wandered about the house from room to room, and out into the grounds,seemingly distraught.
They had the place all to themselves; no one to take counsel with, noneto comfort them; Don Ignacio, at an early hour, having been called offto his duties in the city. But they were not destined to spend thewhole of that day without seeing a visitor. As the clocks of SanAugustin were striking 8 p.m. one presented himself at the gate in theguise of an officer of Hussars, Don Carlos Santander. Nor was he alone,but with an escort accompanying. They were seated in the verandah ofthe inner court, but saw him through the _saguan_, the door of which wasopen, saw him enter at the outer gate, and without dismounting come ontowards them, several files of his men following. He had beenaccustomed to visit them there, and they to receive his visits, howeverreluctantly, reasons of many kinds compelling them. But never had hepresented himself as now. It was an act of ill-manners his enteringunannounced, another riding into the enclosure with soldiers behind him;but the rudeness was complete when he came on into the _patio_ still inthe saddle, his men too, and pulled up directly in front of them,without waiting for word of invitation. The stiff, formal bow, theexpression upon his swarthy features, severe, but with ill-concealedexultation in it, proclaimed his visit of no complimentary kind.
By this both were on their feet, looking offended, even angry, at thesame time alarmed. And yet little surprised, for it was onlyconfirmation of the fear that had been all day oppressing them--its veryfulfilment. But that they believed it this they would have shown theirresentment by retiring and leaving him there. As it was, they knew thatwould be idle, and so stayed to hear what he had to say. It was--
"_Senoritas_, I see you're wondering at my thus presenting myself. Notstrange you should. Nor could any one more regret the disagreeableerrand I've come upon than I. It grieves me sorely, I assure you."
"What is it, Colonel Santander?" demanded the Countess, with_sang-froid_ partially restored.
"I hate to declare it, Condesa," he rejoined, "still more to execute it.But, compelled by the rigorous necessities of a soldier's duty, Imust."
"Well, sir; must what?"
"Make you a prisoner; and, I am sorry to add, also the Dona Luisa."
"Oh, that's it!" exclaimed the Countess, with a scornful inclination ofthe head. "Well, sir, I don't wonder at your disliking the duty, as yousay you do. It seems more that of a policeman than a soldier."
The retort struck home, still further humiliating him in the eyes of thewoman he loved, Luisa Valverde. But he now knew she loved not him, andhad made up his mind to humble her in a way hitherto untried. Stung bythe innuendo, and dropping his clumsy pretence at politeness, hespitefully rejoined--
"Thank you, Condesa Almonte for your amiable observation. It doessomething to compensate me for having to do policeman's duty. And nowlet it be done. Please to consider yourself under arrest; and you also,Senorita Valverde."
Up to this time the last named lady had not said a word, the distressshe was in restraining her. But as mistress there, she saw it was herturn to speak, which she did, saying--
"If we are your prisoners, Colonel Santander, I hope you will not takeus away from here till my father comes home. As you may be aware, he'sin the city."
"I am aware of that, Dona Luisa, and glad to say my orders enable me tocomply with your wishes, and that you remain here till Don Ignacioreturns. I'm enjoined to see to your safe keeping--a very absurdrequirement, but one which often falls to the lot of the soldier as wellas the _policeman_."
Neither the significant words nor the forced laugh th
at accompanied themhad any effect on her for whom they were intended. With disdain in hereyes, such as a captive queen might show for the common soldier whostood guard over her, the Condesa had already turned her back upon thespeaker and was walking away. With like proud air, but less confidentand scornful, Luisa Valverde followed. Both were allowed to passinside, leaving the Hussar colonel to take such measures for theirkeeping as he might think fit.
His first step was to order in the remainder of his escort anddistribute them around the house, so that in ten minutes after the _casade campo_ of Don Ignacio Valverde bore resemblance to a barrack, withsentinels at every entrance and corner!