CHAPTER XXI
TO BE SHOT AT SUNRISE!
The Carlist soldiers conducted Rollo and his three friends to thegranary of the mill-house, where in the mean time they were permitted torecline as best they might upon the various piles of grain heaped hereand there in preparation for the work of the morrow.
The Carlists were mostly quite young, Basques and Navarrese, whose jokesand horseplay, even after a long day's marching, were boyish andnatural.
Rollo and El Sarria were placed at one side of the granary, and at theother Etienne and John Mortimer lay at full length upon a heap of corn.Between paced a sentry with musket and bayonet.
The kindly lads had, with characteristic generosity, brought theirprisoners a portion of their scanty rations--sausages and dried fishwith onions and cheese, all washed down with copious draughts of redwine.
As before, owing to the position of Sarria among its mountains, thenight fell keen and chill. The Carlists slept and snored, all save thedouble guards placed over the prisoners.
"Shall we try a rush? Is it any use?" whispered Rollo to El Sarria.
The outlaw silently shook his head. He had long ago considered theposition, and knew that it was impossible. The windows were mere slits.There was only one trap-door in the floor, and that was closed.Moreover, there were fifty Carlists asleep in the loft, and the floorbelow was the bed-chamber of as many more.
Cast back upon his own thoughts, Rollo reviewed many things--his shortlife, the reckless ups-and-downs in which he had spent it--but allwithout remorse or regret.
"I might have been a lawyer, and lived to a hundred!" he said tohimself. "It is better as it is. If I have done little good, perhaps Ihave not had time to do a great deal of harm."
Then very contentedly he curled himself up to sleep as best he might,only dreamily wondering if little Concha would be sorry when she heard.
Ramon Garcia sat with his eyes fixed on the sentry who had ceased histo-and-fro tramp up the centre, and now leaned gloomily against thewall, his hands crossed about the cross-bar of his sword-bayonet.
Across the granary John Mortimer reclined with his head in his hands,making vows never to enter Spain or trust himself under the leadershipof a mad Scot, if this once he should get clear off.
"It isn't the being shot," he moaned; "it's not being able to tell themthat I'm not a fool, but a respectable merchant able to pay my way andwith a balance at William Deacon's Bank. But it serves me right!" Then alittle inconsequently he added, "By gum, if I get out of this I'll havea Spanish clerk in the works and learn the language!"
Which was John Mortimer's way of making a vow to the gods.
Etienne, having his hands comparatively free, and finding himselfsleepless, looked enviously at Rollo's untroubled repose, and began totwist cigarettes for himself and the sentry who guarded his side of thegranary.
Without, the owls circled and cried. A dog barked in the village above,provoking a far-reaching chorus of his kind. Then blows fell, and hefled yelping out of earshot.
Rollo was not wholly comfortable on his couch of grain. The bonds abouthis feet galled him, having been more tightly drawn than those of hiscompanions in virtue of his chiefship. Nevertheless he got a good dealof sleep, and each time that he awoke it seemed to him that El Sarriawas staring harder at the sentry and that the man had moved a littlenearer.
At last, turning his head a little to one side, he heard distinctly thelow murmur of voices.
"Do you remember Pancorbo?" said Ramon Garcia.
Rollo could not hear the answer, but he caught the outlaw's nextquestion.
"And have you forgotten El Sarria, who, having a certain Miguelete underthe point of his knife, let him go for his sweetheart's sake, becauseshe was waiting for him down in the valley?"
The sentry's reply was again inaudible, but Rollo was fully awake now.Ramon Garcia had not abandoned hope, and why should he? When there wasanything to be done, none could be so alert as Rollo Blair.
"I am El Sarria the outlaw," Ramon went on, "and these are mycompanions. We are no traitors, but good Carlists to a man. Our papersare----"
Here the words were spoken so low that Rollo could not hear more, butthe next moment he was nudged by Ramon on the leg.
"Write a note to Concha Cabezos, telling her to bring the papers here atonce if she would save our lives. You are sure she is faithful?"
"I am sure!" said Rollo, who really had no reason for his confidenceexcept the expression in her eyes.
He had no paper, but catching the sentry's eye, he nodded across towhere Etienne was still diligently rolling cigarettes.
"Alcoy?" he whispered.
The sentry shouldered his piece and took a turn or two across the floor,keeping his eye vigilantly on his fellow guard, who, having seatedhimself in the window-sill, had dozed off to sleep, the cigarette stilldrooping from the corner of his mouth. Yes, he was certainly asleep.
He held out his hand to Etienne, who readily gave him the last he hadrolled. The sentry thanked him with a quick martial salute, and after aturn or two more, deftly dropped the crumbled tobacco upon the floor andlet the leaf drop on Rollo's knees with a stump of pencil rolled up init.
Then the young man, turning his back upon the dozing guard in the stonewindow-sill, wrote with some difficulty the following note, lying on hisbreast and using the uneven floor of the granary for a desk.
"Little Concha" (it ran), "we are General Cabrera's prisoners. Bring the papers as soon as you receive this. Otherwise we are to be shot at day-break.--ROLLO BLAIR."
There was still a little space left upon the leaf of Alcoy paper, andwith a half shamefaced glance at El Sarria, he added, "_And in any casedo not wholly forget R. B._"
He passed the note to the outlaw, who folded it to the size of a postagestamp and apparently gave directions where and to whom it was to bedelivered.
"In half an hour we shall be relieved and I will go," said the Carlistex-Miguelete, and resumed his steady tramp. Presently he awoke hiscomrade so that he might not be found asleep at the change of guard.
* * * * *
There was nothing more to be done till day-break. They had played theirlast card, and now they must wait to see what cards were out againstthem, and who should win the final trick at the hour of sunrise.
Rollo fell asleep again. And so soundly this time, that he only woke toconsciousness when a soldier in a white _boina_ pulled roughly at hiselbow, and ordered him to get up.
All about the granary the Carlists were stamping feet, pulling on boots,and flapping arms.
"It's a cold morning to be shot in," said the man, with roughkindliness; "but I will get you some hot chocolate in a moment. Thatwill warm your blood for you, and in any case you will have a quickpassage. I will pick you a firing party of the best shots in the threeprovinces. The general will be here in a quarter of an hour, and the sunwill rise in another quarter. One is just as punctual as the other. Acigarette?--thank you. Well, you are a cool hand! I'm off to see aboutthe chocolate!"
And Rollo Blair, with a slight singing in his ears, and a chillemptiness about the pit of his stomach, stood on his feet criticallyrolling a cigarette in a leaf of Etienne's Alcoy paper.
John Mortimer said nothing, but looked after the man who had gone forthe chocolate.
"I wish it had been coffee," he said; "chocolate is always bad for mydigestion!"
Then he smiled a little grimly. His sufferings from indigestion producedby indulgence in this particular chocolate would in all probability notbe prolonged, seeing that the glow of the sun-rising was alreadyreddening the sky to the east.
Etienne was secretly fingering his beads. And El Sarria thought withsatisfaction of the safety of Dolores; he had given up hope of Concha afull hour ago. The ex-Miguelete had doubtless again played the traitor.He took a cigarette from Rollo without speaking and followed him acrossthe uneven floor between the heaps of trodden grain.
They were led down the stairway one
by one, and as they passed throughthe ground floor, with its thick woolly coating of grey flour dust, atrumpet blew without, and they heard the trampling of horses in thecourtyard.
"Quick!" said a voice at Rollo's elbow, "here is your chocolate. Nothinglike it for strengthening the knee-joints at a time like this. I've seenmen die on wine and on rum and on brandy; but for me, give me a cup ofchocolate as good as that, when my time comes!"
Rollo drank the thick sweet strength-giving stuff to the accompanimentof clattering hoofs and jingling accoutrements.
"Come!" said a voice again, "give me the cup. Do not keep the generalwaiting. He is in no good temper this morning, and we are to marchimmediately."
The young man stepped out of the mill-door into the crisp chill of thedawn. All the east was a glory of blood-red cloud, and for the secondtime Rollo and his companions stood face to face with General Cabrera.
It was within a quarter of an hour of the sun-rising.
The Firebrand Page 21