In New Granada Part 17

"Too truly--I do. There he lies, like a clod of earth; and there, too, will lie many more, in a few minutes. There is another! I did not notice him at first. Poor Dona Dolores! what will become of her?"

"What! has Juan been captured?" I exclaimed, my thoughts running back to my friend, who might, I feared, have fallen into the hands of the enemy.

"No, not Juan; but Senor Monteverde.--Yes, I am sure it must be he, though he is poorly dressed, and walks with a tottering gait. Yes; they are leading him up to the place of execution."

Forgetting Don Jose's caution, I sprang forward to the window and caught a glance--it was but a momentary one--of our poor friend. It was sufficient, however, to convince me that I was not mistaken. Don Jose again took me by the arm and led me back; but a moment afterwards a volley was fired, and an exclamation uttered by Mr Laffan told me that Senor Monteverde was among those slaughtered by the savages.

"It will be sad news to carry to my mother and father, and to Dona Dolores. What will become of her? Her father dead--her property destroyed; but, probably, she herself is by this time in the hands of the Spaniards, and may ere long share the fate of Dona Paula. Shall I ever meet them again?" I murmured.

Other volleys of musketry, which sounded horrible in our ears, too plainly told us what was continuing to take place.

By Don Jose's advice, we kept close in our room during the remainder of the day; and it was growing dark when Domingo appeared, with a bundle under his arm.

"I have been provided with this for you to put on, senor," he said, producing a serving-man's dress, similar to that which I had worn at Popayan. It was curious that the same disguise should have been chosen.

"You are suspected of being a Liberal; and whether you are so or not, you are to be arrested to-night, and probably share the fate of those who were shot this morning. I am desired to tell you, therefore, that you must make your escape as soon as it is dark--you taking one direction, while Senor Miguel and I take another."

Before I had time to ask further questions, Domingo retired.

I began to put on the dress he had brought me, and was quickly changed into a serving-man. While I was thus engaged Mr Laffan came in, and I told him what Domingo had said.

"But I cannot desert you, Duncan!" he exclaimed. "I will stick by you, whatever happens."

I soon convinced him that we should thus only increase the risk of being arrested, and advised him at once to make his way to Honda, as we had told Murillo we intended doing. If not molested, he might thence, instead of embarking on the Magdalena, travel over the mountains westward to one of the towns on the Cauca. As he had no proposal to offer against this plan--indeed, there was no other to be pursued--he agreed to it.

"But how will you be able to travel alone?" he asked.

"I do not intend to travel alone, if I can help it," I answered. "I believe that Antonio will succeed in liberating Uncle Richard, and that I shall be able to help him to make good his escape."

I was unwilling to leave the house without wishing Don Jose and his family farewell; and as I was thinking how I could best manage to do so, I discovered a slip of paper pinned on to the front of the jacket, on which was written in a feigned hand,--"I know your feelings, and what you would desire to say; but it is safer that we should not again meet.

Farewell. Destroy this when you have read it."

The paper was not signed, but I guessed it came from Don Jose.

Domingo having now reappeared, and announced that the horses were ready, we descended to the courtyard. "It will be safer for me to slip out first," I observed.

To this Mr Laffan agreed.

"You had better take Lion with you," I said; and I ordered my faithful dog to remain with Mr Laffan. But on this occasion the usually obedient animal was disobedient. When I had made my way out of the yard I found him following me, and I had not the heart to send him back.

I resolved at all risks to join Uncle Richard, should he be able to make his way out of prison; so towards that gloomy building I at once directed my steps. As the town was in total darkness, there being no lamps in the streets, I ran little chance of being detected, while Lion could not be seen a few paces off. In a short time I reached the spot where I had had the conversation with Antonio; and there, crouching down, I awaited the hour he had named. There was but one clock in the city which struck the hours. The time appeared to go very slowly by.

Perfect silence reigned through the streets. Neither Royalist nor Republican were at that time inclined to move about in the dark, as a.s.sa.s.sins too frequently plied their deadly trade, and several persons of both parties had been murdered.

At last ten o'clock struck. I sat with my hand on Lion's head, listening attentively. The prison door opened; the sentinel challenged, "Quien vive?" and the countersign was returned. Then the door closed, and I heard the sound of footsteps approaching, but they did not seem those of persons attempting flight. My hopes sank. After all, some officer might have visited the prison, and was now leaving it with a guard. I was afraid, consequently, to move; but in another instant Lion rose to his feet, and, though he uttered no sound, bounded forward towards one of the persons approaching.

"That must be Uncle Richard," I thought. "The dog knows him."

I was not mistaken; and I was quickly by his side, when I found that he had on the cap and cloak of an officer. The other person who followed close behind him was, I guessed from his uniform, which I could but indistinctly see, Antonio.

Uncle Richard divined who I was, and he put out his hand and grasped mine. I returned the pressure; but we did not venture to speak.

Antonio led the way to the western side of the city. "We must make for the mountains immediately; there will be less risk of the G.o.dos looking for us there," he said, when we had got between some high convent walls, where no one was likely to overhear us.

One thing was certain, we must get to a distance from the city before daybreak. On that point we were all agreed.

When there was no risk of being seen, we moved as fast as possible; but as we drew near the guard at the entrance of the city we had to walk at a dignified pace. Antonio had given the sign and countersign to Uncle Richard and me, so we pa.s.sed through without question; it being supposed, in all likelihood, that the officer was on his way to visit some outpost attended by an orderly, while I concluded that I was taken for a guide.

Long before morning dawned we were well among the mountains. Antonio had thoughtfully filled his knapsack with provisions, which, in addition to those I had brought from Don Jose's, would serve us for several days.

The corporal had also furnished himself with a remarkably good rifle, and a quant.i.ty of ammunition. Our intention was to make our way to some place occupied by a Patriot force, of which we hoped to gain intelligence from the peasantry, either Creoles or Indians, the greater portion of whom were likely to prove friendly. It was most important, however, to put as great a distance as possible between the city and ourselves, for as soon as our flight was discovered parties would certainly be sent out to scour the country in search of us.

We rested for a couple of hours under an overhanging rock--to take some food and regain our strength--just before daybreak, and then once more pushed on. None of us, unfortunately, had any exact knowledge of the country. We had therefore to steer by the sun, and to follow the tracks which appeared to lead in the direction we wished to go. Occasionally, when we reached a height from which a view eastward could be obtained, we looked back to ascertain if any one was following. A party on horseback, by galloping over the more level ground, instead of climbing the mountains on foot, might even now overtake us.

The sun was still shining over the hills to the westward, but would shortly disappear behind them, when we saw before us a rapid river rushing between lofty and precipitous cliffs. How to cross it, was the question. We could see no bridge or canoe, and it ran too furiously for us to breast its foaming billows; while it would be dangerous to cross on a raft, even if we could find materials for forming one.

We made our way over the rough ground down the stream.

"I should think we must be safe from pursuit here; but I will just take a look-out from yonder height," observed Uncle Richard.

He had scarcely got to the summit of the hill when he shouted out, "Here come some suspicious-looking fellows; but they are a good way astern at present, so that we must somehow or other leave them on this side of the river." After taking another look, to a.s.sure himself that he was not mistaken, he rejoined us, and we hurried along the bank.

We had not gone far when Antonio exclaimed, "I see a tarabita! It will serve our purpose; and we must take care that it does not help our enemies across."

He pointed, as he spoke, towards a long thin rope thrown across from one cliff to the other. On getting up to it we found the bridge--for so it might be called--consisted of a long rope made of hides, the ends secured by stakes driven into the earth; to this a sort of basket was suspended, with two smaller ropes fastened to it--the one reaching to the side we were on, the other to the opposite bank, where a man-- apparently the guardian of the so-called bridge--was seated on a log smoking. Antonio shouted to attract his attention; and getting up, he made a sign for one of us to enter.

"You go first, Senor Ricardo," said Antonio to Uncle Richard.

But the latter insisted on going last, and made me and Lion get into the basket. The bridge-keeper immediately began to haul away, and I soon found myself dangling over a fearful chasm. I was, however, quickly across; and, by means of a rope pa.s.sing through a block on the side I had left, the basket was immediately drawn back.

Antonio was pa.s.sed over in the same way, and joined me.

Uncle Richard had, in the meantime, gone to the height overlooking the path behind us, but he soon hurried back and took his seat in the basket.

"Tell the old Indian to be smart in hauling me across," he shouted out.

The man obeyed; but Uncle Richard was not more than half-way over when we saw a party of soldiers on the height above the river, and I clearly made out that they were Spanish soldiers. Should they reach the end of the rope before Uncle Richard was safe, they might, by threatening to cut it, compel us all to come back; so we hastened to seize hold of the tackle, in order to a.s.sist the Indian in dragging the basket over more quickly.

"Take care, senores; you will break it, if you pull too hard," he observed.

We were not aware whether he had seen the Spaniards coming.

"Haul away," shouted Uncle Richard.

We obeyed him, and he was soon able to spring on to the ground. His first action on doing so was to grasp Antonio's sword, and to hack away at the rope, to the great astonishment of the old Indian, who loudly expostulated, and attempted to stop him. But Antonio and I seized the bridge-keeper and held him fast while Uncle Richard finished the operation, and soon the rope swung across to the opposite cliff.

"Now," said Uncle Richard, "we shall have to make the best use of our legs, or we may chance to have some bullets whistling about our ears."

We hurried on, hoping to get beyond the range of the firearms of our enemies before they had reached the bank; and we had completely lost sight of them when we heard a volley fired. We only hoped that the poor old Indian had hidden himself in time, and that it was not aimed at him.

Whether there was any ford, or other means of crossing the river, further down, we could not tell; it was therefore important to make as rapid progress as possible. A moon was in the sky, about half full, which, in that atmosphere, allowed us to see our way for some distance, so we took great care to profit by it.