At the Point of the Sword Part 32

"Well, father, I had heard it was possible you were alive, but I hardly dared hope so."

As Jose said, he was looking very well, considering the circ.u.mstances.

His cheeks were thinner, and had lost their colour; his hair had turned gray; he seemed less robust than formerly; but his mind was brisk and alert, and his eyes retained their old fire.

Sorillo would have kept him awhile as an honoured guest; but he was anxious to return, and the carriage waited at the foot of the mountains. On one point, however, the guerilla chief would not be denied. Leaving the Spaniards and mulattoes in the ravine, he insisted on accompanying us, with his Indians, to Lima, and my father did not like to refuse him. From the ravine they carried me on a comfortable litter to the foot of the mountains, where Jose had stayed with the carriage. Then forming up in front, they marched along singing and cheering for Don Eduardo Crawford.

We slept that night in a deserted hacienda, and arrived at our home next day. Jose had ridden forward to inform my mother of her coming visitors, so that she might be able to provide them with food and drink.

It was a grand home-coming for me, and a great triumph for my father.

Though not a vain man, the incident pleased him, because it showed that the people for whom he had suffered so much were grateful for his efforts to do them good.

As the journey had made me rather excited, I took no part in the rejoicings which were kept up through the night; but after breakfast the Indians took their departure, and the noise of their cheering might have been heard at the other end of the town.

"It's rather rough on you, Jack," laughed my father, coming into my room; "but now you will have a chance of a little quiet."

"I am not sure of that," observed my mother, who was looking from a window: "here are two cavaliers crossing the park. By the way they ride, I should say they are Englishmen."

"Is one a big, handsome man?" I asked.

"Well, yes, he is certainly big!"

"That is...o...b..ien, then; and the other most probably is the colonel."

I was not mistaken. In a short time Colonel Miller and his friend were in the room, and each in turn shook me heartily by the hand.

"We hardly expected to see you again so soon," said the colonel, laughing. "We thought Canterac had taken a fancy to your company. I hope there is no permanent injury to the foot?"

"Oh no, colonel; only I shan't be able to do any more mountain climbing yet awhile."

"There's none to do," broke in O'Brien; "we've taken to dancing instead."

"I shall not be able even to join in that for some time."

"No? What a pity! We are enjoying ourselves immensely, though it seems rather an odd way of carrying on a war."

"The general perhaps considers that his troops require rest," suggested my mother.

"Even so, staying here is a great mistake," said the colonel. "We are giving the Royalists time to recover their strength, and we shall suffer for it later on. Unfortunately the general appears to think that Lima is Peru."

"Not the general only," remarked my father; "many of his officers would be sorry to exchange Lima for the mountains."

"That is so," admitted O'Brien frankly. "The truth of the matter is, the citizens have treated us too well. They have made us so comfortable that we wish to stay here as long as possible."

"In that case," said my mother, smiling, "we must steel our hearts against you."

"And drive us into the wilderness again!" laughed O'Brien gaily.

"Senora, you will not be so cruel?"

"I will not begin to-day," she replied merrily, "because I hope you will stay and dine with us. To-morrow--"

"Ah! let us think of to-morrow when it comes; to-day we will enjoy ourselves."

"A pleasant creed," remarked my father, "though more often than not it leads to ruin. I shall begin to think you are falling a victim to our South American vice."

"What is that?"

"Never to do to-day what can be put off till to-morrow."

"That is exactly what we are doing," remarked the colonel, "and I quite agree with you that it is not a paying game, especially in time of war.

A chance once missed never presents itself again."

"An excellent reason for accepting Donna Maria's gracious invitation,"

laughed O'Brien. "Colonel, I congratulate you on your powers of argument."

Although talking in this bantering way, it must not be thought that he was really in favour of remaining idle; but he was a soldier, and had to obey orders, however much he disliked them.

My father, being a member of the government, was in a much worse position, as many held him responsible in a measure for the lazy way in which the war was being conducted. Really he had no power over the army at all, and could not on his own authority have moved a section of recruits.

O'Brien had spoken truly in saying that the officers had taken to dancing instead of climbing. All the chief families opened their doors to them, and our neighbour, Montilla, who had so suddenly been converted to our side, gave a ball more brilliant than even the oldest inhabitant could remember.

Thus the days pa.s.sed into weeks; my ankle grew strong and well, I was able to resume my duties, and still there was no sign of moving. We held possession of Lima and Callao, but on the other side of the mountains the Royalists did as they pleased.

"I hope," remarked my father more than once, "that when we wish to move we shall be able to do so."

CHAPTER XVII.

DUTY FIRST.

As far as we in Peru were concerned, the winter of 1821-22 pa.s.sed without disturbance; but Colonel Miller busied himself in drilling the new regiment of Peruvians which had been placed under his command. As he had made me his aid-de-camp, we were much together, and he paid frequent visits to our house, where he was always gladly welcomed.

Owing to my father's office, I saw a great deal at this time of the protector, who treated me with extreme kindness. Although such a great soldier, he had no love for war, and planned to bring about the real independence of the country without fighting.

"I do not wish the Peruvians to kill each other," he repeatedly declared. "I wish them to live at peace with each other; and whenever they are ready to do that I will step aside, so that they may choose whatever kind of government they please."

My father, who admired him greatly, several times pointed out the dangers that loomed ahead.

"You are reckoning without Bolivar," said he. "He has already driven the Spaniards from Venezuela and Colombia, and is steadily pushing them into Peru. He will follow them and mix himself up with our affairs.

He is mad with ambition, and you will find there is not room enough for both of you in one country."

"In that case I will go away," answered San Martin, with a sad smile.

"I am here, not for my own good, but for that of Peru."

"After bearing the heat and burden of the day, you will give up your just reward? It is monstrous!"

"I seek no reward, Crawford; I seek only the happiness of Peru. In order to gain that I shall willingly sacrifice myself."