At the Point of the Sword Part 6

I shall not dwell long on my prison life. I had ample food, and twice a day was allowed to wander unmolested about the courtyard. The general had gone, and most of the officers, including Santiago, showed me many acts of kindness, which, though trifling in themselves, did much towards keeping me cheerful.

Several weeks pa.s.sed without incident, and I began to get very tired of doing nothing. There seemed to be little chance of escape, however.

Every outlet was guarded by an armed sentry, and I was carefully watched. One day I dragged my bedstead under the window, and making a ladder of the table and chair, climbed to the bars. A single glance showed the folly of trying to escape that way without the aid of wings.

That part of the fort stood on the brink of a frightful precipice which fell sheer away for hundreds of feet to the rocky coast.

Of course I had no weapon of any kind, but the Spaniards had allowed me to keep the silver key, which hung around my neck by a thin, stout cord.

I had almost forgotten the mountaineer's strange words, when a trifling incident brought them vividly to my mind. One morning the Indian, as usual, brought in my breakfast, and was turning to go, when he suddenly stopped and stared at me with a look of intense surprise. He was a short, stout, beardless man, with a bright brown complexion and rather intelligent features.

"Well," I exclaimed, "what is it? Have I altered much since yesterday?"

The man bent one knee, and bowing low, exclaimed in great excitement, "It is the key!"

Then I discovered that, my shirt collar being unfastened, the silver key had slipped outside, where it hung in full view.

"Yes," said I, "it is the key right enough. What of it?"

His eyes were flashing now, and the glow in them lit up his whole face.

"What is the master's name?" he whispered eagerly.

Now this was an awkward question for me to answer. In the first place, the man might or might not be trustworthy; and in the second, the only name I knew was that of the bandit chief. However, I concluded the venture was worth making, and said, "Men call the owner of the key Raymon Sorillo."

"Ah!" exclaimed the Indian, with a sigh of satisfaction, "he is a great chief. Hide the key, senor, and wait. A dog's kennel is no place for the friend of our chief."

With that he went out, and the door clanged after him, while I stood lost in astonishment. What did he mean? Was it possible that he intended to help me? Thrusting the mysterious key out of sight, I sat down to breakfast with what appet.i.te I could muster. All that day I was in a state of great excitement, though at exercise I took care to appear calm. I waited with impatience for the evening meal, which, to my disgust, was brought by a strange soldier.

"Hullo!" I exclaimed, "a change of jailers? What has become of the other fellow?"

"The dog of an Indian is ill," answered the man, who was evidently in a very bad temper, "and I have his work to do."

Placing the things on the table, he went out, slamming the door behind him, and shooting the bolts viciously. The next morning he came again, and indeed for four days in succession performed the sick man's duties.

Now you may be sure I felt greatly interested in this sudden illness.

It filled me with curiosity, and to a certain extent strengthened my hope that the Indian intended to help me to escape from the fort. What his plans were, of course I could not conjecture.

On the fifth night I undressed and lay down as usual. It was quite dark in the cell, and the only sound that reached me was the periodical "All's well!" of the sentry stationed at the end of the corridor. For a long time I lay puzzling over the strange situation, but at length dropped into a light sleep.

Suddenly I was awakened by a queer sensation, and sat up in bed. It was too dark to see anything, but I felt that some one was creeping stealthily across the floor. Presently I heard a faint sound, and knew that the object, whatever it might be, was approaching nearer. At the side of the bed it stopped, and a m.u.f.fled voice whispered, "Senor, are you awake?"

"Yes," said I. "Who's there?"

"A friend of the silver key. Dress quickly and come with me; the way is open."

"Where is the sentry?" I asked.

"Gagged and insensible," replied the voice. "Quick, while there is yet time."

Perhaps it was rather venturesome thus to trust myself in the hands of an unknown man, but I slipped on my clothes, and keeping touch of his arm, accompanied him into the dimly-lighted corridor.

Turning to the left, we glided along close to the wall. At the end of this pa.s.sage the body of the sentry lay on the ground, while near at hand crouched an Indian, keeping watch.

This man joined us, and my guide immediately led the way into an empty room, the door of which was open. As soon as we were inside he closed it softly.

"Keep close to me," he whispered, and then said something to an unseen person in a patois I did not understand.

Presently he stopped, and I could just distinguish the figure of a third man, who, grasping my hand, whispered, "The silver key has unlocked the door, senor."

Before I could recover from my astonishment--for the man who spoke was the sick jailer--my guide let himself down through a trap-door, and called to me to follow. I found myself on a flight of steep steps in a kind of shaft, very narrow, and so foul that breathing was difficult.

At the bottom was a fair-sized chamber, with a lofty roof--at least I judged it so by the greater purity of the air--and here the guide stopped until his companion caught up with us. The jailer, to my surprise, had remained in the fort, but there was no time for explanation.

The exit from the chamber was by means of an aperture so low that we had to lie flat on the ground, and so narrow that even I found it hard work to wriggle through.

Of all my adventures, this one impressed itself most strongly on my mind. People are apt to smile when I speak of what one man called "crawling along a pa.s.sage;" yet had the terrors of the journey been known beforehand, I think I could hardly have summoned the courage to face them.

We went in Indian file, I being second, and my shoulders brushed the sides of what was apparently a stonework tube. There was not a glimmer of light, and the foul air threatened suffocation at every yard. I could breathe only with great difficulty, my throat seemed choked, I was bathed in perspiration, while loathsome creatures crawled or scampered over every part of me.

Before half the distance was covered--and I make the confession without shame--I was truly and horribly afraid. However, there was no turning back--indeed there was no turning at all--so I crawled on, hoping and praying for light and air.

Presently I caught sight of a dull red glow like that from a burning torch, my breath came more easily, and at the end of another hundred yards the guide, rising to his feet, stood upright: we had arrived at the exit from the tunnel. Clambering up, I once more found myself in the open air, and was instantly followed by the second Indian. Two other men waited for us, and the four, with some difficulty, rearranged a huge boulder which effectually blocked the aperture.

Then the light from the torch was quenched, and I was hurried off in the darkness. For an hour perhaps we travelled, but in what direction I had no idea. At first we had the roar of the thundering sea in our ears, but presently that grew faint, until the sound was completely lost. The route was rocky, and I should say dangerous; for the guide clutched my arm tightly, and from time to time whispered a warning.

At last he stopped and whistled softly. The signal was heard and answered, and very soon I became aware of several dusky figures, including both men and horses. No time was wasted in talk; a man brought me a horse, and a loose cloak with a hood in which to m.u.f.fle my head. I mounted, the others sprang to their c.u.mbrous saddles, and at a word from the guide we set off.

The route now lay over a desert of loose sand, in which the animals sank almost to their fetlocks; every puff of wind blew it around us in clouds, and but for the hood I think I must have been both blinded and choked.

I have not the faintest idea how the leader found his way, unless it was by the direction of the wind, as there were no stars, and it was impossible to see beyond a few yards.

Hour after hour pa.s.sed; dawn broke cold and gray. The choking sand was left behind, and we approached a narrow valley shut in by two gigantic ranges of hills. Here a voice hailed us from the rocks, the guide answered the challenge, and the whole party pa.s.sed through the defile to the valley beyond.

It was now light enough to observe a number of Indian huts dotted about on both slopes; and the hors.e.m.e.n who had formed my escort quickly dispersed, leaving me with the guide.

"We are home," said he, "and the dogs have lost their prey."

Dismounting and leading the horses, we approached a hut set somewhat apart from the rest. An Indian boy standing at the entrance took our animals away while we entered the hut.

"Will you eat, senor, or sleep?" asked my rescuer.

"Sleep," said I, "as soon as you have answered a question or two."

I cannot repeat exactly what the man told me, as his Spanish was none of the best, and he mixed it up with a patois which I only half understood. However, the outline of the story was plain enough, and will take but little telling.

My late jailer belonged to the Order of the Silver Key, a powerful Indian society, acting under the leadership of Raymon Sorillo. He had been placed in the fort both as a spy on the garrison and to a.s.sist comrades if at any time they endeavoured to capture the stronghold by way of the secret pa.s.sage. Only the commandant and his chief officer were supposed to know of its existence, but a strange accident had revealed it to the Indians some years previously.

The jailer, of course, could have set me free, but in that case he must have joined in my flight. The plan he adopted was to communicate with his friends, and then, by feigning illness, to divert suspicion from himself. As soon as we descended the steps, he replaced the trap-door, removed all signs of disturbance, and crept cautiously back to his room.

When the Indian had finished his explanation, I asked him to what place he had brought me.