VIII -- APPLEBY'S PRISONER
THE night was pleasantly cool when Cyrus Harding sat with his daughterand the Colonel Morales on the veranda which ran round the patio of the"Four Nations" hostelry in Santa Marta. The hotel was, as usual, builtin the shape of a hollow square, and the space enclosed formed apleasant lounging place when the only light was furnished by the softglow from the latticed windows surrounding it. That night it fell uponpink-washed walls, clusters of purple Bougainvillea that climbed thetrellis, the white blossoms of a magnolia, and a row of carved pillars,while the square of indigo above was set with silver stars. It is truethat the stables opened into the patio, as did the kitchen, next door tothem, but that was not unusual, and the curious musky smell that hangsover most Spanish towns was tempered by the scent of flowers.
Harding lay in a cane chair, with the blue cigar smoke drifting abouthim and a little thoughtful smile in his lean face. He was a widower,and though he now enjoyed a very respectable competence, desired afortune to bequeath his daughter, which was why he had sunk good moneyin what his friends considered reckless ventures in Cuba. Harding had,however, taken risks all his life, and knew there is not usually verymuch to be made by the business man who follows the beaten track. Helooked further ahead than his fellows, and taking the chances as theycame played for heavier stakes.
His daughter sat a little apart, daintily fresh and cool, in a longwhite dress, with the soft light of the lamp above her gleaming on herhair, which was of warm brown, and emphasizing the little sparkle in hereyes. The cold of New York did not suit her, and she had accompanied herfather to Cuba before. Opposite Harding, across the little table onwhich stood a flask of wine, sat a spare, olive-faced officer, with asword girt to his waist. He had keen dark eyes with a hint of sternnessin them, and a straight, thin-lipped mouth; while he was already knownin that country as El Espada, Morales the Sword. His mission was to putdown the insurrection in that district, and the means he employed weredraconic.
"You ask a good many questions, senor," he said in Castilian. "There isno difficulty with respect to some of them and the information in mypossession is at your service; but it is different with those thatconcern the situation political. We are not sure yet who you Americanssympathize with; and I am, you understand, an officer of Spain."
Harding made a little deferential gesture, but he also smiled. "One canusually obtain political information of importance in my country--whenone is rich enough," he said, as it were, reflectively. "Of course, oneavoids hurting anybody's feelings, but it seems to me that the bestguarantee we can give of our good will is the fact that some of us areinvesting our money here."
Morales shook his head. "It is not quite enough," he said. "There aremen without money in your country, my friend, and it is those who havenothing that love the revolution. I have also a little affair with twoof your estimable countrymen."
Nettie Harding, who understood him, looked up. "Now," she said, "that isinteresting! You will tell us about it?"
Morales nodded. "It is a month since we marched east with a strongcompany and a little machine-gun," he said. "We march by night, and itis sunrise when we climb the Alturas gorge. Above, three leagues away,hides a company of the Sin Verguenza, and the Captain Vincente whomarches round will take them in the rear. I have scouts thrown forward,and we march silently, but by and by the front files come running backand there is firing in the pass. The Sin Verguenza, it seems, are uponus, but that is not wise of them. Figure you the place--the rock onecannot climb above us, a barranco, very deep, below, and the machine-gunto sweep the track. Pouf! It is swept. The Sin Verguenza melt away, andwe go forward to conclude the affair."
"Well," said Harding a trifle impatiently, "where do the Americans comein?"
Morales' face grew wicked. "Down the rock, my friend. Perhaps they aresailors; for where there is no footing for any man they slide down thelianas, and others follow them. The cazadores do not look above; thereis still firing, and they do not hear me. The Americans are upon thegun, and more of the Sin Verguenza arrive behind them. I see oneAmerican who is young with his shoulder at the wheel of the gun, and inanother minute it is gone, and there is a crash in the barranco. Thenthe Sin Verguenza come back again, and we go home, my friend; but it isnot all my company who come out of Alturas Pass. One waits, however, andby and by my turn comes."
Nettie Harding said nothing, but there was a significant sparkle in herblue eyes, while her father's nod was deprecatory.
"They are not friends of mine, and I have a good deal to lose," he said."What I want to know is, if you had money to spare would you buy the SanCristoval hacienda? There should be a profit in it at the price, but notif the patriots are likely to burn the sugar mill, or the administrationto quarter troops there. You are responsible for this district!"
"Money is very scarce with me, my friend," said Morales dryly.
Harding nodded sympathetically, and dropped his voice to a lower tone."One would be content with a little less profit if it meant security,"he said. "It would pay me to make certain that the hacienda would not bemeddled with--by the Sin Verguenza."
There was a little gleam of comprehension in the officer's eyes, and hethoughtfully flicked the ash from his cigar. "I think I could promisethat," he said. "We will talk again, senor, but now--if I have yourexcuses--I think I will be wanted at the cuartel."
He rose, made Miss Harding a little punctilious inclination, and movedaway, while the lamplight flung his shadow black upon the pink-washedwalls. It seemed to the girl suggestively sinister.
"I do not like that man," she said. "He has wicked eyes, and his face iscruel!"
Harding laughed. "Anyway, it's evident he has his price, and I thinkI'll buy the hacienda, though I'll want a man to run it, since I can'tstay here. He will have to be the right kind of man."
Nettie Harding appeared reflective. "I wonder what has become of Mr.Broughton whom we met on board the 'Aurania'?" she said.
"The folks I gave him letters to told me he was here in Cuba; but I'mnot quite sure his name was Broughton. He had got himself mixed up insome kind of trouble in England."
"Then," said the girl decisively, "somebody else made the trouble."
"It's quite likely. I don't think there's any meanness in that man; butI wouldn't worry about him. It wouldn't please Julian."
The girl laughed. "Julian," she said, "knows me too well to be jealous."
Harding said nothing, and the two sat silent awhile. There were fewguests in the "Four Nations" just then, and only a faint murmur rosefrom the plaza beyond the pink-washed walls. Somebody, however, wassinging, and now and then a soft tinkle of guitars came musicallythrough the stillness with the chorus of the "Campanadas." NettieHarding listened vacantly, while glancing up at the blue above shewondered whether the same clear stars shone down on a certain navalofficer, and if he thought of her as the big warship rolled across thewastes of the Pacific. It was very still, and cool, and peaceful, andshe lay, languidly content to dream, in the cane chair, until shestraightened herself with a little gasp as the ringing of a rifle camesudden and portentous out of the darkness. It was followed by a crash offiring, and Harding looked up sharply.
"Winchesters--but those are Spanish rifles now!" he said. "It seems theInsurgents must have got in behind the pickets."
"The Insurgents!" said the girl, with a shiver.
Harding rose, and stood looking down upon her curiously grave in face."This is a thing I never expected. Morales told me there wasn't a rebelwithin ten leagues of us; but he has men enough to whip them off," hesaid. "Put on a jacket, Nettie. We can see what is going on from theroof."
In another minute they stood looking down over the low parapet into theshadowy plaza. There was not a light in it now, but through the ringingof the bugles there rose a confused clamor and the patter of runningfeet, and Nettie Harding could dimly see clusters of citizens apparentlymaking the best pace they could towards the calle that led out of SantaMarta. As she watched a line of figures broke
through them and by theirrhythmic tramp she guessed that these were soldiery. Then a fresh mob ofcitizens poured into the plaza, and the rifles crashed again.
"What does it mean?" she asked.
Harding, stooping over the parapet, listened a moment to the confusedvoices, and then shook his head. "I'm afraid it's the Sin Verguenzacoming," he said. "They have a little account against Santa Marta, and Iwouldn't like to be Morales when they send in the bill."
His attitude betokened strained attention, and the girl fancied he wasendeavoring to ascertain how the troops had fared. Then the clamor grewsuddenly louder, and she grasped his arm.
"Oh!" she said. "They are in the town!"
"Yes," said Harding curtly, "I guess they are. The sooner we leave themand the Santa Martans to it the better! Get your little trinketstogether, Nettie; I'll have the mules we hired ready inside fiveminutes."
He plunged down the stairway, burst through the negroes alreadyclamoring about the stable, and dragged the mules out. There was a crowdin the archway leading out of the patio when the girl joined him.
"We can't mount here," he said. "Keep close behind me until we make theplaza."
It was accomplished with difficulty, but the men who pressed upon themsaw the glinting pistol; and Nettie Harding stood ready to mount in theplaza when a mob of fugitives surged about them. There was a crash ofriflery very close at hand, the mule plunged, and she reeled backwardswith a little cry. For a moment she felt her father's grasp upon hershoulder, then the mules seemed to vanish and Harding with them, and shewas driven forward amidst the press. A voice she recognized was shoutinga few yards away, but it ceased suddenly, and she was jostled this wayand that with the little breath she had left almost crushed out of her.She could only wove as the crowd did, and it bore her onward into a darkcalle, where screaming women were pouring from the doorways, and hereand there a pale light shone down upon the terrified faces about her,but there was no sign of Harding anywhere.
She could never remember how long this lasted; but by and by the crowdseemed to melt away where two or three streets branched off from asmaller plaza, and she stood still, breathless, striving to draw thethin jacket, whose buttons had been torn away, over the trinkets she hadhastily clasped into her bodice and cast about her neck. Then thevenomous clanging of rifles commenced again, and when something zip-zapped along the stones and struck the white walls with a curioussplashing sound she turned to run and saw a dusky archway in front ofher. Stumbling into it, she flung back the great leather curtains, andfound herself in a little church. It smelt of stale incense, and a fewpale lights that only intensified the darkness blinked here and there;but she could hear low rustlings which seemed to indicate that othershad taken refuge in it, and shrank into a corner.
She fancied she spent at least an hour in the church, listening withapprehension to the clamor that broke out and sank again outside. Therewere murmurs inside the building, and an occasional rustling of theleather curtains, but this told her nothing; and at last, unable to bearthe suspense any longer, she moved softly towards the door. The town wasalmost silent when she reached it, and there was a light burning in whatappeared to be a wine shop across the plaza. She could also hearlaughter as well as the tinkle of a guitar; and as this did not indicatefear she decided to enter the shop and endeavor to hire somebody tosearch for her father. Unfortunately, however, she did not remember asaying common in Spain respecting the fondness of evil-livers for thesound of church bells.
She flitted across the plaza without molestation, and then stopped infront of a building which bore a scroll announcing that it was a cafe. Ablaze of light shone out from it, and looking in between the woodenpillars she could see the little tables and wine barricas. Then shegasped, for in place of reputable citizens the tables were occupied bywomen with powdered faces in cheap bravery and ragged men with riflesslung behind them. The light also showed her standing white in face withtorn garments and the jewels sparkling at her neck to the revellers; anda man of dusky skin, with a machete hanging at his belt, sprang up witha shout.
There was a burst of laughter, and Nettie Harding fled, with the patterof several pairs of feet growing louder behind her, until two men cameforward to meet her. They, however, let her pass; there was analtercation, and she stood still, trembling, when a cry in Englishreached her. Then she saw three or four dim figures moving back towardsthe cafe and the two men coming towards her. One of them also raised ahand to his big shapeless hat.
"I scarcely think they will trouble you any more," he said in Castilian,which Nettie could understand.
She said nothing for a moment, but stood still looking at the men, andwondering whether they could be trusted. She could, however, see verylittle of them, and found a difficulty in expressing herself inCastilian.
"Can you tell me whether the Hotel Cuatro Naciones is safe?" she askedin faltering English. "I lost my companion leaving it."
"I scarcely think it is," said one of the men, whose accentuation wasunmistakably English. "You were staying there?"
"Yes," said Nettie. "My father was separated from me by the crowd."
One of the men said something she did not hear to his comrade, whilejust then a cry of alarm came out of the darkness, and was followed by arush of feet. Then the man who had spoken turned to her again.
"I'm afraid you can't stay here," he said, with evident perplexity.
As he spoke a crowd of shadowy men surged about them, but he called outangrily in Castilian, and before she quite realized what he was doingdrew the girl's hand beneath his arm. Then there was laughter and ashout: "Excuses, Don Bernardino. Pass on, comrades!"
Nettie would have snatched her hand free, but the man held it fast witha little warning pressure, and she went on with him, partly because hisvoice had been deferential and puzzlingly familiar, and also because itwas evident that she could not get away. They went up a calle, whereanother band of roysterers came clamoring to meet them, until the manled her under an archway where a lamp was burning. Then he gravelydropped her hand, and Nettie gasped as she stared at him. He was burnedto the color of coffee, his shoes were burst, and his garments, whichhad evidently never been intended to fit him, were mostly rags, but hisface reminded her of the man she had met on board the "Aurania."
"It is perhaps not astonishing that you don't seem to recognize me, MissHarding," he said. "You have no idea where your father can have goneto?"
"No," said the girl, with a little tremor of relief. "He must be in thetown, and I would be very grateful if you could take me to him. Ofcourse, I know you now."
"Is your father Cyrus Harding--Sugar Harding--of New York?" the other manbroke in.
"Yes," said the girl, and the man drew his comrade aside.
"You and I have got to see her through, and your quarters would be thesafest place," he said.
Appleby stared at him as he asked, "Have you taken leave of your senses,Harper?"
"No," said his companion dryly. "I guess they're where they are of mostuse to me. Everybody's entitled to what he can pick up to-night, andthere are not many of the Sin Verguenza would dispute your claim. It'sbeginning to strike you?"
"I hope it will not strike Miss Harding too," said Appleby, whose faceflushed. "Still, I can think of nothing else."
Then he went back slowly to where the girl was standing.
"I fancy I can find you shelter if you will trust yourself to me; andwhen your father asks any of my men about you they will send him toyou," he said. "It is, however, necessary that you should take my arm."
Nettie flashed a swift glance at him, but the man was regarding hersteadily with gravely sympathetic eyes, and it was with a curiousintuitive confidence she moved away with him. They passed bands ofroysterers and houses with shattered doors, and finally entered a patiolittered with furniture. An olive-faced man with a rifle stood on guardin it, and the color swept into the girl's face as she saw his grin; buthe let them pass, and Appleby went on, moving stiffly, and very grim inface, up a stairway that le
d to a veranda. There he took down a lanternthat hung on a lattice, and gave it the girl as he pointed to a door.
"There is a strong bolt inside," he said in a curiously even voice. "Ido not know of any other place in Santa Marta where you would be as safeto-night."
Nettie turned with a little shiver, and looked down into the patio.There were lights behind most of the lattices, and she could hear loudlaughter and the clink of glasses, while here and there ragged figureswith rifles showed up on the veranda. Then she straightened herself withan effort and looked steadily at Appleby. He stood wearily before her,very ragged, and very disreputable as far as appearance went, but he didnot avoid her gaze.
"Where am I?" she asked, with a faint tremor in her voice.
"I believe this was the Alcalde's house. It is occupied by the Insurgentleaders now."
"Then," said the girl, with a little gasp, "why did you bring me here?"
"I can escort you back to the plaza if you wish it," said Applebyquietly. "Still, you would be running serious risks, and I believe I cananswer for your security here. You see, I am an officer of the SinVerguenza."
Nettie gasped again, and once more shot a swift glance at him. Applebywas standing very still, and save for the weariness in it his face wasexpressionless. Then without a word she turned and went into the room,while Harper smiled softly when he heard the bolt shot home. The room,she found, was evidently a sleeping chamber, for there was a cheap ironbedstead in it, and articles of male attire were scattered about thefloor. From the quantity of them, and the manner in which they werelying, it also appeared that somebody had been endeavoring to ascertainwhich would fit him. Then Nettie, remembering the rags the man wore, satdown somewhat limply with burning cheeks in the single chair, until alittle burst of meaningless laughter that was tinged with hysteria shookher.
In the meanwhile Appleby dropped into a cane chair further along theveranda and laid his rifle across his knees. "My head's aching, and Ican't see quite straight," he said. "See if you can get me a little winesomewhere, Harper. Then you had better go along and find out what thoserascals of mine are after, and if anybody has seen Harding."
Harper shook his head. "I guess I've had 'bout enough of them for onenight, and if any indignant citizen slips a knife into one of them it'snot going to be a great loss to anybody," he said. "You know who thatgirl is?"
"Miss Nettie Harding. I met her on the 'Aurania' coming out."
Harper smiled. "Well," he said reflectively, "it's not every day one ofthe Sin Verguenza is honored with the custody of a young woman who livesin one of the smartest houses on the Hudson. It strikes me there's moneyin the thing, and I'm going to stop right here, and be handy when SugarHarding comes along, though I don't know that he'd think much of me as achaperon in this outfit."
"Get me some wine," said Appleby, while the bronze deepened in hisforehead. "I have got to keep awake, and don't feel inclined for anyfoolery."
Harper went away chuckling, and Appleby sat still. The blow he hadreceived in the attack had shaken him, and he had spent that day andmost of the night before it in forced marching. It was some time beforeHarper returned, and in the meanwhile the Captain Maccario came up thestairway. He stopped in front of Appleby, and shrugged his shouldersexpressively.
"The senorita is disdainful, then?" he said.
Appleby devoutly hoped Miss Harding did not understand Castilian, andattempted no explanation. He had more than a suspicion that it would notbe credited, but his face was a trifle grim when he looked up at hiscomrade.
"There are times when a wise man asks no questions, my friend," he said."If any one tries to get into the room I have taken to-night he will besorry."
Maccario, who was an easy-going Andalusian, laughed somewhatsignificantly, and Appleby, glancing at the half-opened lattice,wondered with unpleasant misgivings whether Miss Harding had heard him.As it happened, she had, and clenched her hands as she listened. Still,even then she remembered that the man who had brought her there had saidthere was no place in Santa Marta where she would be more secure. Itseemed a bold assertion, but she felt that it could be credited.
"Well," said the Spaniard, whose eyes still twinkled, "we march atsunrise, and there are richer prizes than pretty faces to be picked upto-night. The others are busy collecting them. Is it wise to lose one'schances for a senorita who is unsympathetic?"
The humorous Maccario came very nearly receiving a painful astonishmentjust then, but by an effort Appleby kept his temper. "My money is myfriend's, but not my affairs," he said. "Tell your men if they can findan American with blue eyes to bring him here. It will be worth theirwhile."
Maccario tossed a handful of cigars into his comrade's knees. "TheColonel Morales smokes good tobacco, and they were his. If we find theAmerican we will send him to you. It is by misfortune we do not find theColonel Morales."
He went away, and by and by Harper came back with a flask of red wineand a roll of matting, which he spread out at the top of the stairway.
"I'm pretty big, and anybody who treads on me will get a littlesurprise," he said. "You have just got to say 'Gunboat' if you want me."
He was apparently asleep in five minutes, but Appleby lay motionless inhis chair with every sense alert. The laughter and hum of voices haddied away, and only an occasional hoarse shouting rose from the town.His eyes were fixed on the patio, and his hands, which were hard andbrown, clenched on the rifle; but his thoughts were far away in a gardenwhere the red beech leaves strewed the velvet grass in peaceful England,and it was not Nettie Harding's blue eyes, but Violet Wayne's calm grayones that seemed to look into his. Harper's words by the camp fire werebearing fruit, and he was ready to admit now that it was a woman who hadsent him there. There was also satisfaction in the thought that he wasserving her, which was the most he could look for, since his part was togive and not expect, but he felt that she would approve of what he wasdoing then. So the time slipped by; while Nettie Harding, still sittingbehind the lattice, now and then raised her head and looked at him. Hisattitude betokened his watchfulness, and with a little sigh of reliefshe sank back into her chair again. That ragged figure with the grim,brown face seemed an adequate barrier between her and whatever couldthreaten her.
At last there was a trampling below, and several dusky men staggeringsuggestively came up the stairway. The girl heard the sound, andshivered as she watched them, until a gaunt figure rose up from beneaththeir feet. Then they stopped, and one of them fell down the steps andreeled with a crash against a pillar at the bottom.
"You can stop there. There is plenty of room in the stable," said avoice; and when Appleby flung up a hand commandingly the men went away,and there was quietness again.
How long it lasted Nettie did not know, for, though she had no intentionof doing so, she went to sleep, and did not hear a man come up thestairway. He had a lean face and keen blue eyes, but there was tenseanxiety in them now. Appleby, who rose up, signed Harper to step aside,and in another moment the two men stood face to face--one of them dustyand worn and ragged, the other in what had been a few hours earlierimmaculate dress.
"Where is my daughter?" said the latter. "There's five hundred dollarsfor any one who will bring her to me."
Appleby smiled a little. "She is here."
The other man shook visibly and clenched his hand, but Appleby moved outof the shadow so that his face was visible, and the American's grewquietly stern.
"Then you shall pay for this," he said.
"Hadn't you better speak to Miss Harding first?" said Appleby. "Knock atthe door in front of you. I believe it is bolted inside."
Harding struck the door. There was a little cry of terror that changedto one of joyful surprise, the door swung open, and the man went inside.It was five minutes later when he came out again, and he had a wallet inhis hand when he stopped before Appleby. Then he started.
"Good Lord!" he said. "It's Broughton."
Appleby nodded, and saw that Harding was fumbling at the wallet. "No,"he said. "I wou
ld not like you to spoil the acquaintance I am ratherproud of, sir."
Harding's face was flushed as he grasped his hand. "Well," he said, "Iguess the bills aren't printed that could pay you for what you have donefor me. Can't you say something that's appropriate, Nettie?"
"No," said the girl quietly, though there was a faint gleam in her eyes."That contract is too big for me. Still, I hope you did not lose manyopportunities, Mr. Broughton, through taking care of me."
Appleby turned to Harding hastily. "I hope you did not have any troublewith our men?"
"No," said Harding. "It was some time before I saw them. A mob ofcitizens swept me away, and when I got clear of them one of Morales'officers came up mounted with a few men. He went off at a gallop, butshouted to a sergeant to take care of me, and the fool did it tooefficiently. He was from Mallorca, and couldn't understand my Spanish,but dragged me along with him. It was an hour before I could get away,and I spent the rest of the night running up and down the town untilsome of your comrades found me."
Appleby nodded. "My friend here will take a few files and go with you toyour hotel," he said. "Our men will have loaded themselves with all theycan carry, and are scarcely likely to trouble you now. We leave atsunrise."
Harding stood silent for a moment or two, and then said slowly, "Can'tyou find anything better than this to do?"
"The Sin Verguenza took me in, and treated me tolerably well," saidAppleby. "I feel bound to stay with them until they have made theirfooting good, anyway."
Harper nodded. "When you feel that you can leave them come to me," hesaid. "I don't want to lose sight of you."
He shook hands again, and went away with Harper and the girl; but it wasscarcely two hours later when his daughter and he stood upon the flatroof of the "Four Nations," while a long line of men with rifles, whowere no longer ragged, marched out of Santa Marta. One who marched withthe second company looked up and waved his hand to them.
"That," said Harding gravely, "is a straight man, and he will dosomething by and by when he has an opportunity. It is not going to be myfault if he doesn't get one."
The Dust of Conflict Page 8