*CHAPTER XXIV*
*"A bon Chat, bon Rat"*
Under a Cloud--The Door--Padre Consolacion--A Daughter of Spain--TheHouse in the Lane--An Unexpected Visitor--A Gambit--In the Shadow--TheWorm Turns--A Blue Paper--The Simple Way
As he made his way through the throng of people filling the corridorsand halls of the palace, Jack could not but observe that the looks hemet were rather of suspicion than friendliness. He was known by sightto many of the habitues of the castle. Tio Jorge had never tired ofpraising his exploits and acclaiming him as a staunch friend of Spain;and yet many now scowled on him, whispered to each other as he passed;one or two even fingered their knives.
Surprised at this change of attitude, he was still more surprised tofind it reflected in the bearing of Palafox and Don Basilio and othermembers of the Junta who were present when he made his report. Palafoxlistened to him coldly, spoke a few words of the faintest praise, anddismissed him without a sign of real approval or encouragement.
Tio Jorge met him as he was re-entering the town by the Porta Portillo,and Jack felt a sense of relief when he saw that the big peasant'sgreeting was cordial as ever. After an exchange of news Tio Jorge, whohad scanned his face anxiously, said bluntly:
"I am a plain man, Senor. You will answer me a plain question."
"Certainly, anything in reason," said Jack in surprise.
"They're saying--I could not believe it--but they are all saying thatyou wish to surrender; at least, that you do not think we can hold out.Now, whatever we may think, we do not talk of these things; it is notgood for the people to hear such things. If any man says them, he doesnot live to say them twice. Tell me plainly, Senor, have you spoken ofsurrender?"
"My good friend," said Jack with a smile, "when you yourself hear anEnglishman talk of surrender, then you may believe it; till then--"
"Then it is false?" asked Tio Jorge.
"Absolutely."
"I knew it. And that proves," added Tio Jorge after a moment, "what Ithought from the first: you have an enemy in Saragossa, Senor."
And then he explained. The despatch brought by Don Miguel Priego hadbeen in several points so different from, so much less discouragingthan, that previously brought by Jack, that the Saragossans' first flushof enthusiasm for the English had soon disappeared. The undoubtedretreat of Sir John Moore, and the subsequent departure of his army fromthe shores of Spain, were twisted to mean a desertion of the Spanishcause. There was at first no personal feeling against Jack, though hiscountry was regarded with bitterness, but it had lately been rumoured,on the authority of Don Miguel's servant, that he had been overheard, inthe Cafe Arcos, expressing a despondent view of the chances of holdingthe city, and hinting that it would be wise to make terms with theFrench. Only the energetic and successful work Jack had been doing inthe Santa Engracia district, and the strong support of Tio Jorgehimself, had given pause to those who wished to treat him as all whocounselled surrender were treated--to gibbet him in the Coso.
Jack recognized at once that Don Miguel's malignity was not to beignored. The bare suspicion of disloyalty had been sufficient to bringa full tale of victims to the gallows, and the fact that he was anEnglishman would not preserve him if the feelings of the populace wereonce thoroughly roused. Fortunately Tio Jorge was his friend; and TioJorge was a host in himself. Jack had seen no more of Miguel or his mansince their remarkable apparition on the ramparts. He resolved to keepa good look-out; though, after all, it was wily, underhand machinationsrather than open violence he had to fear from them.
He had determined to see Juanita and advise her to remove immediately toa safer part of the city. He therefore took leave of Tio Jorge at thedoor of the house in the Coso where she was staying. The same oldduenna admitted him.
"The Senora is very ill," she said. "The Senorita receives. There is avisitor with her now."
"I will wait, then."
"Not so, Senor. The Senorita gave orders that the Senor was always tobe shown up if he called."
Entering the sala, he saw a tall cloaked figure between him and Juanita.
"Ah!" said Juanita, coming forward eagerly with outstretched hand; "howdo you do, Jack? You are just in time to show Don Miguel to the door."
"With pleasure," said Jack, returning at once to the door and holding itwide open.
Miguel had faced round, and stood swinging his hat in the middle of theroom. A fierce scowl darkened his face as he looked from one to theother. Juanita reseated herself, turned her back on him, and resumedsome needle-work for the wounded on which she had been engaged. Jackstood in an attitude of polite expectancy at the door.
"I protest--" began Don Miguel; but Jack cut him short. Speaking in aquiet, even tone, he said:
"You have taken leave, Don Miguel?"
The Spaniard stood for a moment irresolute; then, flinging on his hat,he strode across the room, made no response to Jack's bow, anddisappeared. The moment the door was shut Juanita sprang up, rantowards Jack, and took him by both hands.
"Oh, Jack, Jack," she said, "you don't know how glad I am to see you!"
"Has that hound been bullying you?"
"Bullying! He dare not. I am not a child! But listen, amigo mio; hecame to ask me to marry him. He did! He had the audacity! You shouldhave seen him--heard him--his nasty oily voice; oh, he seemed to bequite sure that he had only to ask! 'And you think of marriage at thisfearful time!' I said. And he wanted me to believe that he was thinkingonly of my safety. When the town falls, he said, I shall want aprotector. 'And you, one of Palafox's hussars, how can you protect me?'And then he smiled, and spoke in dark hints of some special power hewill have, and I grew angry, and asked whether he meant to turnafrancesado, and then--and then you came, Jack, and I wondered what hewould do; and--and he went, and I couldn't help remembering the timewhen you and I were so terribly afraid of him, and--oh, Jack, it wasmagnificent--it was indeed!"
Juanita laughed, and Jack himself smiled at the recollection of Miguel'sundignified exit.
"But, Juanita," he said, "I came to warn you."
"Against him?"
"No; against the danger you run in staying here. The French are comingnearer every hour; almost at any moment they may reach the Coso. Theyare driving their mines steadily towards the centre of the city. Youmust find a place--I can't call it a home--elsewhere."
"But, Jack, that is arranged already. Padre Consolacion is going totake us to a house near the Porta Portillo to-morrow. What do youthink?--the padre came to see me only a minute or two after you left theother day."
"Was that the Padre Consolacion? I saw a benevolent-looking priestenter as I went out."
"Yes. And, only think, he wanted me to marry Miguel!"
"The padre?"
Juanita nodded.
"Of course I told him it was impossible--quite impossible. He sat downand crossed his white plump hands on his hat and began to talk. Miguelmust have won him with his plausible manner. I love the padre, but Icouldn't listen to him; could I, Jack? He asked me why I was so opposedto what he thought was an excellent match, and one that my father had somuch desired; and then I told him that it was all lies, lies; my fatherhad never wished anything of the sort. And the poor old dear waspuzzled, and kept tapping his thumbs together and looked at me sosorrowfully, and then he was called away to attend to a dying officer.And--Jack, tell me, will this siege ever end? Can we hold out anylonger? Are there big armies mustering to relieve us, as they all say?"
She bent forward with clasped hands. Jack hesitated for a moment.
"Juanita," he said, "I won't disguise my real belief. I don't believe inthe big armies. Saragossa will fall--unless one of two things happens."
"And they?"
"Unless General Palafox sends out a large sortie and defeats the French,or unless their ammunition gives out. Neither is probable."
"Then what will become of us? How long will General Palafox resist?Canno
t someone plead with him? Think of the thousands who have died,and the thousands who are dying--the poor women and children in theirhorrible cellars! Oh, Jack, what a terrible thing war is! DoesNapoleon know, can he know, of all the horrors he has brought upon us?Has he any heart at all? Jack, my poor aunt is dying, I fear. I can donothing. Every morning when I go out to carry food and water to thebrave soldiers--"
"You do that, Juanita?"
"Why, yes; every girl in Saragossa does that or something else to help;and every morning I go fearing that I shall never again see Tia Teresaalive. And if she dies, I shall be quite alone in the world. Fathergone, Jose gone-- Ah! but I have you, Jack, and the good padre, and ifthe worst comes you will look after me, won't you?--take me to England,perhaps--I used to like your mother,--and Napoleon will never conquerEngland, will he, Jack?"
"Not he," said Jack with a laugh. He saw that the events of the pastfew days had wrought her nerves to a high pitch of excitement, andtactfully turned the conversation into a quieter channel. He asked forthe name of the house to which she was going on the morrow, assured herthat, when the inevitable capitulation came, the French would allowgenerous terms to such brave defenders, and at length took his leave,promising to visit her whenever he could snatch an opportunity.
"And will you be able to save the old house?" she asked, as he was goingout at the door.
"I shall do my best, for the sake of old times, be sure of that."
"I know you will. Vaya usted con Dios, Jack!"
Before he reached the foot of the stairs, Jack saw, in the dim light ofthe small hanging lamp, a portly figure ascending. He crossed to theother side and waited to allow the visitor to pass.
"Buenas noches, Senor!" said Padre Consolacion, sweeping off his largeshovel hat; then he stopped as he recognized the same youth whom he hadseen earlier in the week.
"Padre mio," cried Juanita from the top, "come along; I want to speak toyou."
"Buenas noches, Padre!" said Jack; and the priest, after a moment'shesitation, went up slowly.
Hard by the Casa Alvarez a narrow tortuous lane of mean houses, dirty inappearance and evil in repute, ran almost due east from the ramparts.It was not a district in which, before the siege, any person worthrobbing would choose to be abroad after nightfall. But when, towardsdusk on this fifth of February, a well-dressed man passed rapidly downthe street and disappeared into one of the least reputable of thehouses, the few denizens who observed him did so without a thought oftheir knives, almost without a sense of curiosity. To such a height ofabnegation had the public danger brought the professional lawbreakers ofSaragossa.
It was a house of three stories, and the stranger, threading his waygingerly through the gloomy entrance and up the narrow stairway,gathered from the evidence of all his senses that every story was fullyoccupied. In hardly another street in this part of Saragossa could ahouse have been found where its whole population was not herded incellars below-ground. But here the lane was so narrow, and so closelysurrounded by buildings, that the inhabitants were in no danger from theFrench bombardment, and lived in a security which few of theirfellow-citizens enjoyed.
As the visitor passed room after room on his upward way, the sounds ofcoarse laughter, the oaths of men, the shrill expostulation of women,and the querulous cry of children came to him through closed orhalf-closed doors, and he drew his cloak around him with an instinctivemovement of disgust. Treading almost noiselessly he reached the atticfloor, where the doors of three rooms opened on to a narrow landing.Although evidently a stranger to the house he showed little hesitation.With infinite caution he tiptoed across the landing to the farthermostdoor, and put his eye to a crack in the panel, through which a narrowbeam of light fell on the dirt-encrusted wall behind him.
The room into which he looked was in keeping with the rest of the house.The fitful light of a tallow candle showed a man bending over a crazytable, two truckle-beds ranged at right angles to each other in the farcorner, and a few articles of clothing hanging from hooks on the wall.The man was intently studying a blue paper spread out on the table,spelling out the words with difficulty, and repeating them under hisbreath with a growl of impatience that accentuated the unpleasing effectof a countenance by nature unprepossessing.
For some minutes the man beyond the door, drawing shallow breath,watched him closely as he struggled with the intricacies of thedocument. There was apparently a passage in it that completely baffledhim. He turned the paper this way and that, examined it even upsidedown, but without success, and at last, in a burst of anger, dashed itdown on to the table with an audible oath.
The visitor took this as his cue for entry, and tapped gently at thedoor.
"Adelante!" was the answer, after a distinct pause.
He turned the handle and went in. The man had faced round towards thedoor, and the dim light of the candle disclosed the narrow features, lowreceding forehead, thin lips, and shifty eyes of Pablo Quintanar. Theblue paper had disappeared.
There was a momentary silence. The host was evidently waiting for hisvisitor to introduce himself.
"Buenas noches, hombre!" said the stranger suavely, with a conciliatorybow. "I trust I don't come at an unseasonable hour."
The guerrillero scanned him from head to foot with a quick suspiciousglance.
"That depends, Senor, upon your business, who you are, and what you wantwith me."
"As to who I am, hombre--may I take a chair? thank you!--my name isMiguel Priego. As to my business, that is not so simply stated; we mustimprove our acquaintance first."
The man started at the mention of his visitor's name; and the latterduly noted the fact. But as the guerrillero merely stood in an attitudeof expectancy, Don Miguel, loosening his cloak and placing his hat onthe table, continued:
"I have been, my friend, as you may perhaps have heard, four days inSaragossa. During these four days I have been searching for you."
The man's hand went like a flash to his knife, and Miguel, quickeninghis measured tones, hastened to add:
"No, my friend, not in that way, or, as you can imagine, I should nothave come alone. I have been searching for you because I think we areboth of one mind regarding, let us say, the policy of our bravecommandant General Palafox."
"Say what you have to say, and have done with it. I don't understandyour fine phrases."
Don Miguel smiled indulgently. It was clear to him that his host fullygrasped his meaning.
"Well, to put the matter quite plainly, you--that is, you and I--regardall this," waving his hand in the direction of a cannon-shot from theramparts, "as useless waste of life--sheer obstinacy; a nobleenthusiasm, but misguided. Is it not so? Now, acting upon ourconvictions we--that is, you--have already done our little best to bringthis distressing conflict to an end. We--that is, you--haveendeavoured--unsuccessfully endeavoured--to relieve our commandant ofcertain plans which, if placed in proper hands might--I say might--"
At this point the guerrillero, who had been standing facing his visitor,sank into a chair, his face blanched, his mouth twitching. On the blankwall before him his imagination was casting the grim shadow of a gibbet.
Don Miguel smiled faintly, and waved his hand reassuringly.
"There is no need, my friend, for emotion. If we were not of the samemind you might, of course, have some ground for uneasiness; butfortunately we understand one another. Is it not so?"
"Si, Senor," the man replied, recovering himself with an effort. "Si,Senor, we understand one another."
"That is well. Now we can proceed. You can understand that our goodfriends out yonder, who also wish to end this terrible siege, aregrieved by your ill-success. They are saying hard things about you.They even went the length of giving me your name, which, if I were lessdiscreet, might well have been awkward for you. I don't disguise thatif they capture Saragossa while you are still in their debt--onethousand pesetas, is it not?--they may treat you somewhat harshly. But,fortunately, you have a chance of retrieving you
rself."
Don Miguel paused. His host had now to some extent recovered hiscomposure.
"And what is that?" he asked sullenly.
"I happen to know, hombre, where our noble commandant has placed thepapers you failed to find. If you can deliver those papers to me I willsee that our friends outside do not forget you."
The man smiled cunningly.
"Thank you, Senor! If I run the risk it would suit me better to claimthe reward myself."
"As you please, my friend. But remember that without my assistance youcan do nothing. A few more days will end the siege, and then--" Hesmiled, then added reflectively: "They say it is an easy death."
Pablo Quintanar winced. He felt himself in the toils, and had somedifficulty in resisting the impulse to throw himself upon his visitorand end the interview with a knife-thrust. But he felt that Don Miguel,with all his languid urbanity, was fully on his guard, and choking downhis animosity he replied:
"What does the Senor wish me to do?"
Don Miguel's voice throughout the interview had been carefully modulatedto defeat any eavesdropping. He now rose quietly, and, rapidly openingthe door, peered out on to the landing. There was no one in view. Hestretched himself over the balustrade and saw, on the flight below, whatappeared to be a tall figure lurking in the shadow. He seemedsatisfied. Quietly re-entering the room, he closed the door.
Then began a long colloquy between the two men, Miguel giving precisedirections as to the whereabouts of a certain box, and the means wherebyit could be secured.
"I think, my friend, there is nothing more to say," he remarked inconclusion. "The matter now rests with you."
"One moment, Senor," said Quintanar, motioning him to be seated. He hadlistened deferentially to what Miguel had been saying, and hadobediently fallen in with every proposition; but there was now avindictive look in his eyes that caused Miguel a strange uneasiness.
"Certainly," he replied, "but I have little time to spare."
"I will not detain you long--not longer, Senor, than you wish, though Ithink that when you have heard what I have to say, you may not be insuch a hurry. The point is this. If--mind, I say 'if'--I knew thewhereabouts of a letter in which your name is mentioned in connectionwith a little affair on the Barcelona road--you remember?--a couple ofyears ago?--if, I say, I had such a letter, that is, if I knew wheresuch a letter was to be found, would it be worth anything to you, DonMiguel?"
Pablo Quintanar grinned maliciously. He had been the victim for thepast half-hour; it was now his turn. Miguel had done his best todissemble his start of surprise and anxiety; but the man's searchinggaze was upon him, and though he replied with a show of confidence hefelt that it was not convincing.
"My name has no doubt been mentioned in a good many letters, my friend;but I am quite indifferent whether I am well or ill spoken of. Hardwords break no bones."
"That may be, Senor, but they sometimes break reputations, and you aredancing on a thin rope. But if I tell you that this letter also has amessage about a sum of money hidden by the writer, how does that alterthe case?"
"I can tell you better if you inform me what the message is, and whatthe name of the writer is."
"Well, I can tell you the name of the writer; it is the late SenorAlvarez."
"Ah! I heard that a letter had been lost--that, then, was what youfound instead of the plan. Do you know, my friend, that this places youin a very awkward position? You will do well to hand the letter over tome. The slightest whisper of suspicion--"
The man glared viciously at the speaker, then snapped out:
"You may be quite sure that as you are the only man who knows anythingabout it, I shall take care that you swing on the same gallows."
Don Miguel shifted his feet uneasily.
"You need not fear, my friend; I am not the man to betray you. I merelythought it would be safer for you if this letter were in my possession."
"Oh, no doubt! but, Senor," added Quintanar with a harsh laugh, "Icouldn't allow you to take the risk--especially as the letter is of novalue to you. I need not detain you, Senor."
Miguel considered a moment, tapping the floor lightly with his foot.
"What do you want for the paper?"
"Well, Senor, I am not unreasonable. Let us say one thousand pesetasdown and a quarter of the treasure when you find it."
Miguel laughed softly.
"Thank you, my friend! Before I pay a thousand pesetas I should like toknow what I am paying it for."
Quintanar, hesitating for a moment, slowly drew out a blue paper frombeneath his jacket, and said:
"What do you think of this?
'I am convinced that Miguel Priego was at the bottom of this dastardlyoutrage. Unfortunately, we have no proof at present that would satisfya judge, but if any of the men who assisted him can be found and inducedto give evidence it is still possible that he may be brought to book.'
What do you think of that, Don Miguel? Ah! I thought I should interestyou."
Miguel forced a smile, and, waving his hand airily, said:
"If that is all the letter contains I would not offer a maravedi forit."
"Oh, there is more, a good deal more! I need not read it all, butlisten to this:
"The sum saved from Miguel's brigands, together with a large amount injewels and bullion, I have thought it best to secrete until more settledtimes. You will find appended to this letter instructions which, takentogether with a communication I have made to your son Jack, will enableyou or him, or such other person as you may be so good as to depute, tofind them in the event of anything happening to my servant Jose Pinzon,who is fully acquainted with all my dispositions."
Don Miguel, greed written in every lineament, leaned forward on hischair, listening eagerly.
"Well," he said impatiently, as the man concluded, "what are theinstructions?"
"Those, Senor, I cannot read. They are in some strange tongue; but nodoubt you, having education, will be able to make them out. That is tosay, if you make it worth my while to hand you the letter. You know myprice."
Carefully refolding the letter, Quintanar replaced it in a pocket insidehis jacket. In doing so he took his eyes for a moment off Miguel, whomhe had been watching with the utmost vigilance, to assure himself thatthe document was safely stowed away.
The other, his face aflame with rage and cupidity, instantly seized theopportunity. Drawing his feet quietly beneath him, he sprang from hischair and bore the guerrillero to the ground. But the man, althoughtaken unawares, recovered himself with surprising agility. Before Miguelhad time to draw his knife he had clutched him by the throat, and with adexterous turn had reversed their positions, Miguel now being on theground, Quintanar above him, his long knife uplifted to strike.
Boys of the Light Brigade: A Story of Spain and the Peninsular War Page 27