*CHAPTER XXII*
*Juanita*
The Brave Antonio--A Survey--Towards the Coso--A Deed of Daring--TheSenorita Receives--Old Friends--Mig Prig--Don Fernan--An Ambush--JosePinzon--The Call of Duty
Next morning, as soon as it was light, Jack started for a round of hisdistrict. The Casa Alvarez was a large square house, standing in themiddle of a small plaza of its own. Exactly opposite its front, whichfaced towards Santa Engracia, there were two smaller houses, known asthe Casas Vega and Tobar, the backs of which were separated from eachother by a narrow lane leading towards the convent. Each of thesehouses was the last of a block of contiguous buildings, and they were,in fact, the only houses in their blocks which were still intact, therest being more or less in ruins. The front of the Casa Tobar lookedinto a street running parallel with the lane and entering the PlazaAlvarez on the side nearest the ramparts. On the other side of thestreet ran a row of houses parallel to the Casa Tobar block. These alsowere mainly in ruins. The house exactly opposite the Casa Tobar wasknown as the Casa Vallejo, and this, while at present unharmed, was theimmediate object of the French attack. Thus in the vicinity of the CasaAlvarez there were three parallel blocks of buildings along which theFrench were working simultaneously. Two of the blocks were terminatedby the Plaza Alvarez, and the last house in each was in a line with theCasa Vallejo. The Casa Vallejo terrace was separated by a lane from theramparts, for the defence of which Jack was not responsible.
Plan of the Plaza Alvarez District]
The features of the locality were pointed out to him by a young Spanishlawyer, Don Cristobal Somiedo, who had taken a voluntary part in thestruggle, and had acted as lieutenant to Jack's predecessor, DonHernando de Solas. It was he, toe, who introduced Jack to his littlecorps. It consisted of about 380 men, of whom no more than 250 could beregarded as really fit for duty, and even of these, as they paradedbefore him, many looked as though they should be in hospital wards. Themajority of them were regulars, but nearly 100 were guerrilleros driveninto the city, before the actual investment began, by the advance of theFrench. Among the rest were once well-to-do shopkeepers, whosebusinesses had been ruined, and whose houses and shops had in many casesbeen destroyed by the French bombs or mines. They were fighting side byside with artisans from the lower quarters of the city, and peasantsfrom the country-side, all distinctions of class and occupation beingforgotten in the common peril. Regulars and irregulars all bore marksof the toils and dangers of their strenuous life--some in their tatteredgarments, others in ghastly wounds, others in their haggard cheeks andfever-lit eyes. But only one spirit animated them all: thedetermination to spend their last energies in the defence of the city.
Passing down their ranks, Jack was struck by one face that seemedfamiliar to him, and he stopped before the man, endeavouring to recallthe circumstances in which he had seen him.
"Buenos dias, Senor," said the man, a stout thick-set fellow wearing aheavy skin cloak. He smiled somewhat sheepishly as he saluted his newcommandant.
The tone of voice brought back to Jack's memory the roadside encounterwith a man on the way to Medina, and the subsequent meeting in the inn.
"The brave Antonio, is it not?" he said with a smile.
"Si, Senor," replied the man.
"I am glad to see you engaged in such excellent work."
Passing on, Jack was introduced by Don Cristobal to Pablo Quintanar, thechief of the guerrilleros, and learnt that the man, though subordinateto the commander of the district, expected a certain amount ofconsideration as head of an independent party of peasant-warriors. Jackwas not taken with the man's appearance. He had a sinister look andshifty eyes, and replied in curt ungenial tones to the few wordsaddressed to him.
"Antonio, the man you spoke to just now," added Don Cristobal, "issecond in command of the guerrilleros, and a much better man, in myopinion, than the chief. You appear to know him, Senor?"
"I met him once," was Jack's brief reply.
Having made acquaintance with his corps, and finding that the French hadnot yet commenced their morning movements, Jack proceeded to completehis survey of the position. Beyond the River Huerba he could nowclearly see the long rows of French trenches, the parallels cut here andthere by a series of zigzags constructed with incredible labour tosecure the besiegers' approach to the walls. The French had actuallymade good their position on the near side of the river, immediatelybeneath the wall, towards Santa Engracia, but they had hitherto forborneto press their advantage, the height of the bank rendering it difficultfor them to storm the ramparts in that quarter, and at the same timepreventing them from blowing them up by mines.
It was clear that no French attack was to be expected from the PortaQuemada side of his district, for in order to reach him the enemy wouldhave to push their way through some hundreds of yards of streets held byDon Casimir, who had proved himself a very capable leader. But on theSanta Engracia side he was exposed to what was plainly the enemy'sprincipal attack. Their aim was obviously to reach the Coso, and toconnect the wedge they were driving into the city in this quarter withthe wedge already inserted at San Agustin.
They had made considerable progress since the capture of the SantaEngracia convent four days before. They treated each block of houses asa miniature fortress. There was no attempt to carry it by storm untilthe defences had been attacked by sap and mine. As soon as a house wasblown up they rushed in and occupied the ruins, where they entrenchedthemselves with bales of wool, gabions, and sacks of earth, and began todrive mines under the next block.
Anxious to see for himself something of their method, Jack entered ahouse next to one recently blown up, and, ascending to the top story,peeped through a loop-hole pierced in the party wall. The roof of thenext house had fallen in. Some charred beams were still smouldering.Here and there a tongue of flame licked the debris, and as the breezeblew in fitful gusts, dense clouds of smoke rose into the air.
"They don't do their work very thoroughly," said Jack to Don Cristobal."The shell of the house is still standing. A good explosion would haveshattered the whole place."
"They have changed their ways, Senor," replied the lieutenant. "Atfirst they used big charges and completely destroyed the houses; butthey found that when the ruins cooled, and they occupied the space, theyhad no shelter from our fire. Now they use smaller charges and throwdown only the wall next to them, leaving the other walls and the roofuninjured. The roof next door was not brought down by the explosion,but by our own men setting fire to the shell."
"A counter-stroke, eh? Obviously two can play at their game. Well, itwill be at least a couple of days, I should think, before the ruins arecool enough for the French to occupy the ground. Probably they are busyrunning a mine towards us."
A loud explosion at this moment shocked the air. Looking out of thewindow, across the barricaded streets, Jack saw a column of smokepouring from a house to his left, at the corner of another block ofbuildings not in his quarter.
"One house nearer the Coso," he said. "Well, Don Cristobal, we must dowhat we can to check their progress in our direction. Our men are nodoubt counter-mining."
"Not very successfully, I am afraid. We have no trained sappers andminers; only a scratch battalion formed from the workmen employed on thegreat canal of Aragon, a mile to the south, and they haven't beenaccustomed to work underground."
"We must give them some practice, then," said Jack as they left thehouse together.
Returning to the Casa Alvarez, which he had fixed on as his permanenthead-quarters, Jack learnt that there had as yet been no sign of aFrench attack upon his district. The houses and barricades were wellmanned by the Spaniards. It was clear that their vigorous oppositionhad deterred the French from attempting an assault in force until theyhad made further progress with their mines. In pursuance of an ideathat had occurred to him, Jack sent for the foreman of the canallabourers and took him at once into a small cabinet,
where they remainedcloseted for more than two hours. At the end of that time the workman,carrying a sheet of paper, left the house, collected a gang of thelabourers, and brought them, armed with various implements, into theCasa Alvarez, where he descended with them into the cellars.
Meanwhile Jack, leaving Don Cristobal in command, made his way to theAljafferia Castle to see Palafox. His interview with the general wasbrief. He reported that he had taken over command of his district,rapidly surveyed it, and inspected his men. He mentioned what he hadlearnt of the recent operations of the French, and was informed byPalafox that he might regard himself as having a free hand in preparingmeasures of defence, though he would be expected to make a daily reportto head-quarters. The business of the interview being concluded,Palafox said:
"You will be interested to hear that last night Don Miguel Priego--he isconnected, I believe, with your father's house--got through the Frenchlines by a stroke of matchless daring, bringing me despatches from theSupreme Junta. Their view of my country's prospects is brighter thanMr. Frere's; and Don Miguel tells me that, from information he gainedduring his wonderful journey across Spain, we may expect the siege to beraised within a week."
"I am glad to hear it, Senor Capitan," said Jack gravely. Then,abruptly changing the subject, he continued: "Can you tell me where Ishould be likely to find Padre Consolacion?"
"At the Franciscan convent, no doubt; you will pass it on the way backto your district. The padre is doing grand work."
Jack thanked the general and took his leave. He was anxious to findPadre Consolacion and discover from him the whereabouts of JuanitaAlvarez. As he walked along the Coso towards the Franciscan convent hecame to the house where he had left the young Senorita whoseacquaintance he had made on his first entrance to the town, andremembering the trinkets of hers he had in his pocket, he decided tocall and leave them with her, and at the same time enquire after herwelfare and the health of the fragile old lady whom they had rescued.Rapping at the door, he was in a minute confronted by a pleasant-lookingold duenna, who, on learning the object of his call, at once asked himin.
"The Senorita said that if you called you were to be shown up, Senor.Follow me."
There was nothing unusual in this; in Spain a message is alwaysdelivered in person, be the messenger high or low. Jack followed theold woman into a vast salon, darkened by the closing of the shuttersexcept at a small window at the back.
"The Senora is ill; the Senorita receives," said his guide, and wentout, closing the door.
In a chair sat the old lady, looking vacantly around the room, mumblingher lips and fingering the ends of her lace mantilla. She paid noattention to the visitor, but the younger lady rose and came forward afew steps, then stood in an attitude of mingled enquiry and expectancy.
"You will pardon me, Senorita; I could not help calling to enquire--I amnot sure of your name--"
"I don't think we mentioned it, Senor. And that reminds me of my ownneglect--my unpardonable neglect. I should certainly have asked the nameof our--deliverer."
At this word Jack looked uncomfortable. His fluency in Spanish seemedfor the moment to have utterly deserted him.
"Oh," he exclaimed at a rush, "my name is Lumsden--Jack Lumsden."
"Ah! an English name, is it not? Then you are not a Spaniard. And yetyou speak--just like one of ourselves."
Jack's reply was half-apologetic.
"Oh, well, I had a good deal of practice as a child. I used to live inSpain."
"And now?"
"Now--I'm in the army--the English army--lieutenant in the 95thregiment."
"Lieutenant?--May I congratulate you?"
"Congratulate me!" repeated Jack in some surprise.
"Yes; is it not permitted? Among us it is quite the custom tocongratulate a friend on his promotion."
"Certainly, Senorita--" began Jack, wondering still more; but before hecould collect himself the girl continued, with a twinkle of amusement inher eyes:
"Surely it is only the other day that you were an ensign. Can you haveforgotten that too? You were not always so forgetful. I fear--"
"True, Senorita, I was a kind of ensign, though in the 95th we've nocolours to carry. But--"
"I fear," she continued, after a scarcely perceptible pause, "--yes,that you are--well, not quite so nice as you used to be."
Her eyes were dancing with merriment, and in a flash Jack recalled thetime, six years ago, when a little maid with just such eyes had been hisoccasional playmate in Barcelona. True, there was little otherresemblance; she had been an elf-like girl, with tangled hair, thincheeks, and the shy manner of a child unused to the society of children.Before him now stood a tall girl with a dignity and self-possessionbeyond her years, her rounded cheeks and bright eyes showing that thetrials of the siege had as yet touched her but lightly.
"Juanita!" exclaimed Jack, almost below his breath. "Well, of all theextraordinary--of all the stupid--"
Juanita laughed outright--the old rippling laugh that Jack nowremembered well.
"I hope, Senor Lumsden, you are not referring to me," she said.
"You must think me an ass," he replied, half-amused, half-nettled."But," he added, seeing a loophole, "it isn't my fault. It's you whohave changed, not I. And I came to Saragossa on purpose to see you. Tothink it was you all the time!"
"Indeed we thank you. I don't know what we should have done withoutyou," said Juanita more seriously. "We could never have got away. Don'tthink me ungrateful; I knew you at once; but it was all so terrible, andI saw you didn't know me. And then, when all was over, I ought to haveexplained, but I--well--"
"Didn't," said Jack with a smile. "I see you haven't changed so muchafter all. The same Juanita, mischievous as ever."
"I'm afraid not, Jack. I'm years older than I was a few months ago. Wewere happy then; now everything is different."
The tears stood in her eyes.
"Yes," said Jack, "I had heard; that is why I came to see you."
They were silent; then Juanita, with a brave effort to smile, said:
"Now, Jack, tell me all about yourself."
In a few words Jack gave an account of what had happened to him sincehis arrival in Spain, Juanita listening with an interest and excitementthat every now and then found expression in eager questions.
"But now," said Jack in conclusion, "it's your turn. I have many thingsto ask. Do you know, I met an old friend not long ago, who told mesomething about you."
"Oh! Who was that, and what was it?"
"Well, I called him an old friend--for your sake. It was MiguelPriego."
"Him!" Her shrug was expressive. "Why do you say for my sake?"
"Well, considering what he told me--"
"What did he say? Don't be mysterious."
"He said--that you were about to be married."
"Married! Good gracious! To whom?"
"To him!"
"To Mig Prig?"
Her scornful laugh was wholly convincing, and Jack could not helpjoining heartily in her merriment when he heard once again his boyishnickname for their common tyrant.
"That's all right, then," he said.
"But surely you didn't believe it?" added Juanita, with a touch ofindignation.
"Well, time works strange changes, you know."
"Possibly," said Juanita, appreciating the retort; "but not so strangeas that. Marry _him_!"
Her gesture was imperial in its disdain.
"Another of Miguel's lies!" said Jack. "But," he added thoughtfully,"there was usually a motive behind them. What can it be this time? Hegave me so many details; said it had all been arranged between yourfather and Don Esteban; he was to have the business; and all the rest ofit."
"Ridiculous! My father would have been the very last to think of such athing. He distrusted him--with good cause."
And then she proceeded to give Jack a narrative from which, as the talewas unfolded, he gained more than an inkling of Don Miguel's designs.
<
br /> More than two years before, when Napoleon formed his alliance withSpain, Don Fernan Alvarez, a shrewd observer of events, had suspectedthat the ostensible object of despoiling Portugal was only a ruse bywhich the emperor intended to make himself master of the wholepeninsula. Foreseeing a period of confusion and anarchy, the oldmerchant resolved to take time by the forelock and set his house inorder. He went to Barcelona, the headquarters of the business, andproceeded to realize his stock as far as possible, with the intention ofconverting it into bullion or valuables which could be laid aside as aprovision for his own declining years and his daughter's future. Ongoing into the accounts of the firm he found that Don Esteban Priego'sbooks showed large deficiencies, threatening to more than cover hisinterest, not a great one, in the business. When the matter was broughtto light, Don Esteban was much distressed. He had been for some time infailing health, and had left the management of his branch almostentirely in the hands of his son Miguel, who, however, when brought tobook by his father's partner, indignantly protested against the impliedcharge of dishonesty, and declared that if there was anything wrong heat any rate was absolutely clean-handed. There was no time toinvestigate the matter fully. After a stormy interview Don Fernan leftthe office in charge of a trusted clerk, and, taking with him the largesum of money he had realized, together with the unsatisfactory books,set out for Saragossa a few days before Barcelona was seized by theFrench.
Owing to the disturbed state of the country he thought it wise to travelwith an escort of some score of well-armed men, half of them his ownretainers, half alguazils. From some undefined motive of prudence hekept his departure secret until the last moment. But, despite thisprecaution, the party was ambushed at dusk, at a lonely spot on thehills within two marches of Saragossa, by a horde of brigands. Theescort made a stout resistance, but being taken entirely at adisadvantage by superior numbers they were overpowered. Don Fernanhimself was severely wounded in the first moment of attack; several ofhis men were killed or disabled; and the rest, seeing their casehopeless, made their escape.
The brigands were about to kill the wounded, on the principle that deadmen tell no tales, when a body of French horsemen rode down the hill ata gallop. One startled glance, and the bandits hurriedly decamped. Atthat time the French were posing as disinterested friends of Spain. Thecavaliers showed every attention to the wounded men, assisted Don Fernaninto Saragossa, and with a self-restraint that was remarkable in thelight of the subsequent behaviour of their countrymen, handed over tohim his books and boxes untouched. This was a double relief to themerchant, for, if what he learnt on the way from his old body-servantJose was true, he had not only saved the treasure for his daughter, butpreserved it from the hands of the one man whom he had recently had somuch reason to mistrust. Jose had been stunned during the fight by ablow from a clubbed musket. On recovering consciousness he was amazedto recognize, among the assailants, no other than Don Miguel Priego. Hecould not be sure. At that moment the French appeared and the brigandsfled. But he felt that he could hardly have been mistaken.
"That was where Miguel got his scar," said Jack to himself at this pointof the story.
A few months after Don Fernan's return to Saragossa the French began thefirst siege of the city. He contributed largely to the funds raised forthe defence, and though scarcely able to walk played a notinconsiderable part in the actual work behind the walls. But suchunwonted exertions tried his already enfeebled health. He had neverthoroughly recovered from his wound. The troubles of the siege were toogreat a strain for a man of his age. And though his strength revived alittle when the French were so signally beaten, he was again ailing whenthe news of the fatal day of Tudela broke his last hold on life. TheSaragossans gave him honoured burial.
His last days were troubled by anxiety about his daughter and onlychild. He knew that if his property became subject to the lingeringprocesses of the Spanish courts, very little of it would be left forJuanita. He had no near relatives or friends on whose integrity andbusiness capacity he could thoroughly rely. Mr. Lumsden, his Englishpartner, would, as a heretic, probably be unable to act as executor of awill, and in any case would be seriously handicapped in any legalproceedings. He therefore made no will, but solemnly entrusted hisservant with the task of carrying out his wishes. Jose was forty yearsof age, wholly illiterate, but devoted to his old master, and even moreto Juanita. He enjoyed Don Fernan's entire confidence, and was fullyinformed of his master's affairs. A sum of money had already beeninvested in England that would produce an income of about L400 a year;of this Mr. Lumsden was trustee. The remainder of his propertyconsisted of a country house and estate near Morata, some miles west ofSaragossa; the family plate and heirlooms; and the money realized by thesale of his disposable stock in Barcelona. The movable property was allgiven into Jose Pinzon's charge, to be handed over to Juanita when thecountry should have settled down again.
"That won't be yet, I'm afraid," remarked Jack, "but no doubt Jose hasit safe enough. By the way, where is he?"
"I wish I knew," said Juanita anxiously. "Nothing has been heard of himsince the great sortie of Captain Mariano Galindo about ten days ago.He volunteered among the brave two hundred, and was one of the first tospike the French guns. But he never came back."
"Poor fellow!" said Jack. "I'm very sorry. We used to be great chums.There aren't many like him. You will miss him sadly."
"Yes, indeed; and I wouldn't mind about the property if only he weresafe."
"But surely his disappearance doesn't affect the property?"
"Well, you see, nobody else knows where it is. Father didn't tell me.He thought there would be less risk of harm if I knew nothing about it."
"But he would be sure to provide against Jose's death. Ah!" heexclaimed, as a sudden light dawned, "that explains it. I had a letterfrom him in Salamanca, telling me about another letter left with GeneralPalafox. No doubt everything was explained in that."
"Was explained! What do you mean?"
"The letter has disappeared--was stolen, mistaken for plans of the city.But there's still a chance left. A third letter was sent to my father.We must hope it was a duplicate of the lost one."
"Oh dear!" sighed Juanita, "to think that so many people should betroubled with poor little me!"
"We seem to have rather muddled things among us," said Jack. "But I seenow what Mig Prig is aiming at. Have you heard that he is back inSaragossa?"
"Miguel back!" exclaimed Juanita; in her tone there was a hint ofuneasiness. "Oh, I do hope I shall not meet him! But I won't think ofhim."
"He's not worth it.--I was almost forgetting. I have brought some ofyour trinkets from the Casa Ximenez. Will you--"
"Hark!" exclaimed Juanita, holding up her hand. There was a loud crashas of falling masonry.
"They are bombarding again," said Jack, rising. "I must hasten to mypost. Good-bye, Juanita!"
"You will come and see us again when you have time?"
They both looked sympathetically at the huddled figure of Dona Teresa,who had fallen asleep in her chair.
"Poor Auntie!" said Juanita. Then, as Jack turned towards the door, shefolded her mantilla about her head and dropped a low curtsy, sayingdemurely: "Adios, Senor!"
Boys of the Light Brigade: A Story of Spain and the Peninsular War Page 25