Roger the Bold Part 23

"His fine feathers make him a native, but in appearance he is English,"

ventured the commander of the guard.

"Not far from the mark, I should say," agreed the captain, staring closely at his prisoner, and taking careful stock of him. "And were I asked I would swear almost that he understood every word spoken by us.

There is a movement of his eye which seems to tell that he listens to every word."

"Then he would know of our ill-luck, and might----"

"He had better keep a still tongue between his fine white teeth," said the captain, in threatening tones. "He who tells tales of our branch of the service will have need to make them of the right sort, or else----"

"We shall quarrel with him, captain," smiled the commander of the guard, sardonically. "It would be a bad day when the troops looked at the cavalry as common arquebusiers, or as men who wield the crossbow."

For a little while they discussed the matter in low tones, their conclusion being that their prisoner was undoubtedly an Englishman, though as to his knowledge of Spanish they were more than doubtful.

However, their doubts were set at rest within a little while, while the captain and his men went hot and cold at the thought of the easy revenge which Roger might take; for already the tale of their losses, and of the manner in which a huge force had been attacked, had been sent round the camp in Tlascala. Roger was marched along the main street--a street which, compared with ours of to-day, would still be awarded the prize for general excellence of design, ample width and air s.p.a.ce, and accommodation for any possible amount of traffic, and was ushered into the huge building over which the flag waved. In a courtyard behind, a council of officers was sitting, and the guard and their captive came to a halt opposite them. At once all eyes went to the tall figure of the captive, while Roger himself allowed his gaze to wander calmly around the circle, from the gaudily dressed native caciques and n.o.bles in their feather cloaks to the Spaniards. Lastly, his eye riveted itself upon one of medium height, who occupied a central position. He was fair for a Spaniard, though he had the usual swarthy complexion of the race.

But there was a certain dignity about this man which marked him as a leader--a decision of manner which his lips, his nose, the set of his chin, and the general poise of his head and body seemed to indicate. And yet, though he had not said a word so far, and none had addressed him, Roger felt sure that he was the redoubtable Fernando Cortes, the man who had come to Cuba as a debtor, with nothing before him, and who, owing to some little favour which the governor of that island had shown him, had at length attained to the leadership of one of the numerous expeditions which left the new Spanish possessions every year without a single exception. The reader will recollect how that command had been s.n.a.t.c.hed away again within an hour almost of its having been given. And here before him Roger saw the man who had dared so much, who had defied authority, had so skilfully managed his men that they had fought and clung to him even through adversity, while they had not grumbled when his reckless and wilful act of destroying the fleet had left a paltry five hundred Spaniards face to face with races already bitterly hostile, and able to put armies into the field amounting to many hundreds of thousands.

"Cool and calm," thought Roger. "Says what he means, and sees that his orders are carried out. Trusts his inferiors, and believes that he and his men are born fighters."

"The white giant, the interpreter of the party. At last the net has fallen round them," Cortes was saying to himself as he looked at Roger, and yet without giving those who were present the impression that he did more than glance at the prisoner. "A bold fighter, I am told. Skilled with the crossbow, and not without skill in ordering battle. His few weeks of authority have made a man of him, and he looks dignified and strong, though only a lad; but he must be frightened."

"The captive," said the leader of the troop of horse, anxious to make his voice heard. "According to orders, generalissimo, I rode from the town last night, and----"

"You have done well, though I like not the loss of five men," exclaimed Cortes, cutting him short, and showing that every piece of information was brought to him. Indeed, he was wonderfully served by numerous spies.

"Stand back while I question the man. Your name?"

Roger could see the captain of his escort turn sallow under his bronzed skin as the words were addressed in Spanish, and almost smiled at the flush and the startled look which the unhappy leader of horse displayed as he answered.

"You are the interpreter of this beggarly ship which came from England.

You went ash.o.r.e to the south, and the ship left you there, being chased by a Spaniard. You then made your way to Mexico, where I hear that you occupy the position once given to me by their hateful priests."

"It is true. You have the story correctly," said Roger.

"And your comrades sailed for these parts because of a golden disc which was captured. Who has that disc? Speak."

For a moment Roger wondered whether he should tell his story. Then he reflected that the probabilities were that Alvarez, the traitor, still had it, though he could not be sure. Perhaps there was some trick in this question, and, in any case, if Alvarez still had the disc, and was keeping it for his own private services, as seemed now to be most likely, then it would be better to leave that matter a secret. He could answer truthfully with a denial of any knowledge.

"The golden disc," he said quietly; "the one with the sun on one side and a plan on the other? I cannot say where it is. Doubtless Sir Thomas could tell you."

"He cannot. He refuses to speak. But I will find a means to alter his decision." A scowl came over his face, and he glowered upon Roger, hoping to see his prisoner quail. But he was disappointed. However, one thing he did accomplish. He startled our hero by his words.

"Captured! Can the men of the brigantine be captured?"

"Yes," continued Cortes, as if answering Roger's question, "this Sir Thomas and his men can say nothing of the disc. I have questioned them.

They are prisoners. But you might know."

"I have already answered. I do not know," said Roger, firmly.

"Then we must employ other means to this leader of yours. But you can and will speak of other matters. You have been an honoured n.o.ble--a G.o.d even!" he sneered. "Mexico welcomed you with open arms, and made you a general. Therefore you can speak of the defences--of measures taken to hold our attacks in check. You have been brought here for that purpose.

Speak, now, so that all may hear."

"To do so would be to betray those who are my friends. I am on their side, and their secrets are mine, and are safe."

Roger faced the general quietly, his arms folded, and his head and shoulders towering over the members of the meeting. His eye swept along the line, and he looked coldly into every face till he arrived at that of the captain who had effected his capture.

"You mean that you will not speak?"

Roger nodded.

"I give you two minutes to tell your tale. If you fail when the time is gone, you shall be hanged. To-morrow morning at dawn you will be tossed from the branch of a tree and left to dangle."

The general looked at Roger with scowling brows, while the company leaned forward expectantly. But Roger was not to be frightened, though he had expected death from the moment of being captured.

"Why wait till to-morrow, general?" he asked coldly. "I have said that they are my friends. Would you act the part of traitor? Then do not ask me to do such a thing. Hang me if you wish it, but let me be true to my side."

"One minute has pa.s.sed," was the answer, as the general drew out a c.u.mbersome watch. "Less than one minute remains. Afterwards----"

He greeted his prisoner with another ominous look; but Roger stood his ground without flinching. He looked calmly at his enemies, and bowed when the time had pa.s.sed--bowed so coolly, and showed so little concern, that there was a murmur of applause, while Fernando Cortes, though he was bound to preserve an immovable countenance, displayed some admiration. But he was a stern man, and his word was his word.

"At six of the clock to-morrow morning," he said, snapping the watch to.

"Captain, you will see to the execution. I shall be there. March the prisoner out."

CHAPTER XIV

Roger is true to his Comrades

Roger and his guard of Spaniards marched out of the presence of Fernando Cortes in silence, the eyes of all following, some showing pity, some admiration of the bravery of the youth who could thus, alone amidst enemies, face his captor so boldly. As for the generalissimo, his scowl left him as the doorway and its curtain intervened between him and his captive, and he turned an inquiring eye upon his comrades.

"Will he yield? And does he know aught of the disc?" he demanded curtly.

"Nothing of the disc, I think," answered a bearded warrior dressed in his full battle array. "He has an open face, this tall lad, and he looked straight into your eye as he answered. As for yielding, the pain of torture might make him speak. But then, who is there here who can say that he himself would not give a secret if there were those in power over him able to work their fell will on his poor body? Even strong men call out under those circ.u.mstances, though they do not always tell the truth. But we would fain treat the lad with gentleness. He is a fine grown young man, and the English are not our enemies at home."

"Nor is he the leader out here with this wild-goose expedition,"

exclaimed Cortes. "Still, he knows of Mexico, and lives may be saved and the task made lighter. Between us and an easy success lies his conscience. It must be salved, and if fear will not cause him to alter his determination, then we will see what other methods will bring about.

I do not like it, this torture, my friends; but, then, should the many suffer for this one? Let him be taken to the hanging to-morrow, and we will see what his frame of mind is when his hour comes. It will be easy for us to grant a reprieve, and that may cause him to give way."

Meanwhile Roger was marched through the streets of the town of Tlascala, the captain leading, and the guard about their prisoner. Not a word pa.s.sed between them till they arrived at a large building of one story, placed close to the wall. It had a single door on the side which faced the street, and through this the party entered. They pa.s.sed to the far side of the dwelling, and came to an open courtyard, about which were set walls of great height.

"This is your prison for to-day," said the captain. "Fall out, the guard, and retire to the doorway. Now, Senor Roger de Luce, if that is the correct name, I have a request to make. You speak Spanish?"

"Since I was a boy," answered Roger, with a faint smile.

"And you heard our chatter when we rode into the town? You listened to our tale?"

"The one which now runs round the town? Yes, I heard it. It meets the occasion well."