Miss Fairfax of Virginia: A Romance of Love and Adventure Under the Palmettos

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by St. George Rathborne


  CHAPTER XXII.

  TO THE OLD FORTRESS.

  There was one remarkably good trait about Owen--he had a powerful will,and when he chose could concentrate all his abilities upon a certainsubject, to the exclusion of everything else.

  It pleased him to nurse his grievances for a time--what badly usedbiped would not be addicted to the same luxury.

  Then, with a mighty upheaval he cast the whole load from him.

  The public weal demanded his full attention and private woes must takea back seat.

  For the present, therefore, he effaced cruel Georgia from his mind, andresolutely set his shoulder to the wheel.

  Roderic was himself again, calm, shrewd and with a contempt for dangerthat might take him to the border land of reckless endeavor, though heusually knew how to check this in good time to make it a servant ratherthan a master.

  The day had gone.

  Alas! he had thought to mark it down with a white cross as one thatwould take him a long step nearer Elysium; but instead it was to bedistinguished by a red mark.

  Was there a fatality in his love for Georgia?

  Were they doomed never to know happiness?

  That was the last uneasy thought that came to him ere he shut the wholescene out of his mind, as a rain squall envelopes the landscape.

  It was no ordinary affair which Roderic now took up; at least itpromised to afford considerable danger, and would call for a display ofenergy on his part, of no mean calibre.

  He went into it with a grim feeling such as he could not rememberexperiencing on any previous occasion.

  Perhaps this was caused in part by the dead weight upon his mind, forit was singular that he should be placing his life in jeopardy in orderto please a girl who had jilted him, cast him aside like a worn-outglove.

  It added to the piquancy of the thing, but Roderic could not say hehoped for a repetition.

  The governor's daughter had given him strange information about Leon.

  This brother of Georgia seemed fated to see the inside of more than oneSpanish prison. His experience in Morro Castle, from whence he escapedthrough the assistance of the girl who had fallen in love with him,one would think must have been quite enough in that line; but he hadsomehow or other again fallen into the hands of his foes.

  Thus it happened that he had been in the San Juan prison, condemnedto exile, on the morning of the memorable twelfth of May, when aboutdaybreak Sampson's powerful fleet opened on the forts and were in turnbarked at by the bold Spanish gunners, who showed their bravery if theydid no damage.

  It happened that the prison was probably the most exposed buildingin the city, lying as it did between the fleet and the pulverine, thegallery of it fronting on the harbor.

  Without warning a shell exploded in the wall, and that side of thebuilding became a wreck.

  Bricks and _debris_ flew in every direction, and all who were in theapartment with Leon found themselves on their backs.

  Such a chorus of frightened shouts went up--demoralization reignedsupreme.

  But Leon, who had not been seriously injured, was quick to see thatonce again the Providence that seemed to watch over his fortunes hadinterposed in a miraculous manner to save him--the Yankee shell in itsinquisitive search for the most available Spanish property to destroyhad torn out almost one side of the prison, and through the gapingaperture freedom beckoned.

  So he had crawled out, covered with dust and bearing several woundswhere the flying bricks had come in contact with his person.

  Two days later he had been again seized, being betrayed by a negro inwhom he and his lovely wife had unwisely placed confidence.

  From that day on he had been kept in close confinement, and finallyagain brought to trial. This time conviction was followed with a stillmore severe penalty--he was doomed to be shot.

  Roderic learned the whole story--it would not pay to take time to givethe details--one who had sought the governor's daughter's hand and beencoldly received had been elevated to a high military position in PortoRico, and found himself in a way to visit his miserable displeasureupon the man who succeeded where he failed.

  Perhaps he hoped to win the widow--Heaven only knows, for some knaveshave assurance enough to offer a hand red with a husband's blood to theheart-broken beauty who mourns his loss.

  At any rate this was the situation that demanded Roderic's attention.

  It was serious enough to call for determined effort on his part.

  True, he had never as yet met Leon, but somehow a deep interest in theyoung Porto Rican's fate had taken possession of him--when a man hassupped many times with adventure, he experiences a sympathetic feelingfor one who had also rubbed up against the hard side of life.

  Besides, Leon was _her_ brother, and anything that was in the remotestdegree connected with Georgia appealed to his chivalrous nature.

  Last of all he had promised, aye, taken a solemn vow, that he wouldfind Leon, and this being interpreted meant that should the youngman be in a predicament of any sort it would be his business and hispleasure to succor him if such a thing lay in the bounds of humanpossibility.

  Roderic had means of communication abroad.

  A cablegram sent from Europe to a certain correspondent in New Yorkwould be immediately transmitted to another point in the West Indies,possibly San Domingo, where the message would be put in the form of aletter and sent to an imaginary Spaniard at San Juan.

  Thus it happened that when he returned to the humble roof thatsheltered him, when evening drew on apace, he found there a wellthumbed missive which upon being hastily opened contained this sanguinemessage:

  "Have broken the bank at Monte Carlo. Will sail to join you to-morrow."

  Roderic laughed--he could not help it.

  Darby had longed for a chance to try some peculiar combination he hadhatched up upon the great gambling centre, and this opportunity hadappeared a wonderful favor.

  The chance was one in a million, yet it had actually come to pass.

  "I've heard the song about the man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo,but never dreamed I would in any way be instrumental in sending arepresentative there who would do that same thing. Good for Darby,lucky fellow. By the way, I wonder does that charming adventuress sailwith him--if so the chances are ten to one the fortune he has won willnot be in his possession long. Well, it must be some time before he canjoin me, unless he manages to board some Spanish steamer, taking theguise of a don; and such vessels are exceedingly scarce on the highseas now."

  With that he lighted the paper and destroyed every trace of Spanishchirography.

  Once again he turned his full attention toward the rescue of Leon.

  Other elements were working toward that same end, yet of this factRoderic was of course profoundly ignorant, and he labored on as thoughonly through his endeavors could the man condemned to be shot find achance for safety.

  He had laid out his plans after the manner of a general who goes to war.

  Every little detail had to be looked into, and arrangements madewhereby a secondary battery could be brought to bear, should the firstfail to prove effective.

  It was perhaps unfortunate that he would have to work single handed,because he knew of no one in all San Juan whom he could thoroughlytrust in this matter of life and death.

  How he missed Darby--what a tower of strength the man would have beento him just now.

  Roderic however, never sighed for the moon; when he could not have whathe wanted he was philosophical enough to drop the subject and contenthimself with what he had.

  The man with whom he had taken up his temporary abode in San Juan was afaithful fellow, but lacked the ability to serve him in this emergencywhen so much depended on the move of a hand or the exact carrying outof prearranged plans.

  Roderic had indeed asked numerous questions, and the informationreceived, added to what he already knew from personal experience,placed him in a position to "carry the war into Africa."

  Leon was confined in an old f
ortress that presented a most picturesqueappearance by moonlight, and would have made an excellent subject foramateur photographers, yet possessed few elements of modern strength.

  Like St. John's church, it had received a few compliments fromSampson's fleet, which gaping apertures, together with accumulated_debris_, only served to add to the picturesque confusion.

  Roderic had prowled about this neighborhood considerably during theday, careful not to attract attention, yet with the desire to learn theactual lay of the land, so that even under cover of darkness he wouldbe able to move with at least a fair degree of certainty.

  It presented a good view of the bay and harbor, the governor general'spalace on the point and the few vessels in the harbor, chief of whichwas the Spanish torpedo boat destroyer Terror.

  Roderic had cast longing looks toward the trim steam yacht anchoredthere, from the stern of which whipped the Union Jack of England--hewould have given much for an opportunity to interest Cleo in hisdaring scheme, and in Captain Beven he knew he could have had an ablecoadjutor, for the sailor liked nothing better than adventure.

  Still, Roderic had believed it was best not to seek an audience withhis cousin--he did not wish to drag her into the risky game if he couldhelp it.

  Perhaps--who can tell--some peculiar sense of honor held himback--perhaps he reasoned that as this desperate move on his part,this contemplated rescue of Leon from a Spanish dungeon and deathat sunrise, was but a link in the chain of his suit for the love ofGeorgia, it would be adding insult to injury did he endeavor to enlistCleo's services in behalf of the venture.

  One thing he had determined to do--it was really forced upon him as a_dernier ressort_, since there was no other means of getting Leon outof the country after his escape from prison had been effected, if hewere so fortunate as to accomplish this.

  He had a note written to Cleo in his pocket and this he meant that Leonand his wife should deliver in person aboard the yacht.

  That Cleo would find means of hiding them on board until theDreadnaught sailed for Jamaica he never once doubted.

  With some anxiety he studied the heavens and the conditions of theweather, for what this August night brought in its train was a matterof considerable importance to him.

  There would be a moon, very near the full, but clouds promised to shutit from view, at least the major portion of the time.

  Roderic counted this as an especial favor in his direction.

  He meant to take advantage of it.

  All minor matters had been positively arranged, even to the boat inwhich they were to be carried to the English yacht, and this was initself a very important factor in the game, one that by any neglect inmaking up the programme might have proved a fatal error.

  He killed time in the early evening by loitering around the coffeehouses and hearing the various opinions expressed by Spanish soldiersand San Juan citizens regarding the immediate future of the city, forit was generally known that Ponce had fallen into the hands of theaggressive Yankees, and that the "thin blue line" was advancing acrossthe country in the direction of the north coast, capturing everything_en route_, even to the hearts of the people, who hailed the Americansas their deliverers.

  It was a distinct pleasure to Roderic to know that the army ofoccupation had landed on the soil of Spain's finest colony, for herealized that the glorious flag of liberty once planted would never betaken down again.

  San Juan did not worry.

  Indeed, the city probably never looked more gay than on this Augustnight, when, after an unusually torrid day the cool ocean breeze,following the rain, invited every one to loiter out of doors, and joinin the characteristic Spanish holiday season.

  To Roderic these light hearted people were the greatest of allmysteries.

  If New York city were threatened by a hostile army, and its speedycapture as good as insured, he could imagine the fearful panic thatmust take place, how white faced women, and men too, would throng thestreets laden with precious household goods, seeking some avenue ofescape.

  Yet here was a city that had already experienced some of the horrors ofa bombardment and with another in prospect, probably of a more drasticnature, giving itself up to pleasure as wholly as though peace ruledthe camp, the fleet and the grove.

  It was astonishing, marvelous!

  Roderic of course knew the reason--he had made a close study of Spanishcharacter, and found that like the Southern plantation negro thesesons and daughters of Iberia never worry save over the troubles of theimmediate present.

  Let the future take care of itself--on with the dance--what if troubledoes come, that will be "_manana_," to-morrow, and why should theyworry until the time arrives?

  Bah! when the first shell from the monitors and battle ships goesshrieking over the forts to explode perhaps among the houses of thetown--that will be time enough to show anxiety, and once started theycan make up for wasted opportunities.

  Such is the settled policy of these people, no matter where found, andit is the main reason why they are outstripped in the race by suchenergetic, wide awake, ever ready to seize an open opportunity nationsas the Anglo Saxons and Teutons.

  Spain has accomplished her work on the earth, a savage and cruelone in many respects, yet fraught with much daring--she it was whocenturies back sent her bold navigators to the ends of the little knownworld to plant the yellow and crimson banner there--her barbarousmethods of government led each of her numerous colonies in turn torevolt and declare the shackles broken from their limbs, but Spainnever changed her policy as did Great Britain after losing the UnitedStates.

  With the end of her late war Spain found herself virtually stripped ofcolonial possessions, and from this time forward she must live withinherself--her cruel but in one sense necessary work in opening the worldto light has been finished and she will never again know the glory thathas been hers in the past.

  Roderic often thought over these things, for they were very pertinentto the subject, and every true blue Yankee must at times consider thefuture of these glorious islands thus coming into possession of thegreat republic.

  Thus he killed time while waiting for the night to move on.

  It was best that he delay his desperate work until San Juan had atleast in a measure quieted down, since there was more chance of thesentries being careless, and less fear of running against citizens inthe street after the rescue should have been effected.

  The minutes dragged, for he was eager to get to work--like a war horsethat paws the ground and tugs at his halter when the distant booming ofguns and the pungent scent of burnt powder announce the battle to havebegun.

  At length his patience gave out.

  By stretching a point the time had come for him to advance on theouter works, for which he was extremely grateful; with a sigh ofgenuine relief he threw off the incubus that had borne so heavily uponhim during this delay, and set his face toward the ancient fortressthat had seen almost every event of interest happening in San Juan fromthe days of that gallant adventurer and seeker after the Fountain ofYouth, Ponce de Leon.

 

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