The Bandolero Part 16

The Street of the Sparrows appeared to be my doomed spot. For the second time there seemed no chance of my getting out of it alive; and for the second time I made up my mind to die hard in it.

Despite the suddenness with which Carrasco had surprised me, I was upon my guard--before he or any of his comrades could come to close quarters.

But this time, alas! I was without revolver, or pistol of any kind.

Not dreaming of danger at that early hour of the day, I had sallied forth, wearing only my parade sword. With this fickle weapon I could not possibly defend myself against half a score of men armed with thin long-bladed _machetes_.

Grasping its hilt was like leaning upon a reed.

I thought of Francisco of again throwing myself upon his protection.

But which of the fifty dwellings was his?

Even could I have told the right one, would I have time to reach it, or would he be at home?

There was a chance that he might be--that he might hear my cries, and come out. It was so slight as to seem hopeless; and yet I clutched at it, as a drowning man at a straw!

Shouting, I retreated along the street--in what I believed to be the direction of his dwelling.

I am not ashamed to acknowledge, that I called loudly for help--coupling my calls with the name of Francisco Moreno. A man, with death staring him in the teeth, may be excused for dropping a trifle of his dignity.

I shouted like a respectable shopkeeper attacked by a gang of garotters.

The Street of the Sparrows was fatal to me only in promise; and for the second time fortune favoured my escape from it.

Help came; though not from the quarter so loudly solicited. Francisco's door remained shut; at least it was not opened by him. It was thrown open by a score of Red Hats, who at that moment appeared entering the street.

At any other time the sight of these sanguinary allies would have caused me a thrill of antagonism. Now they seemed saints--as they proved saviours!

They had shown themselves in the nick of time. Carrasco and his compeers were close behind me--so close that the points of their _machetes_ were within six inches of my spine.

On espying the Red Hats they retreated in the opposite direction--going off even faster than they had been following me!

Seeing myself disembarra.s.sed of the danger, I advanced to meet my preservers. I had no idea of what they could be doing there; until I saw them stop in front of a house--where they demanded admittance.

The demand was made in a rude manner, and in terms of an unmistakeable determination to enter.

As no one opened the door, they commenced hammering upon it with the b.u.t.ts of their _escopetas_; for several of them were armed with this weapon.

The door finally gave way--having yielded at the hinges--and, swinging round, stood partially ajar.

Not till then had I the slightest suspicion of what the Red Hats were after. Some "bit of burglary," I supposed, done in open day; for there was no reason to think the contrary. I could see they were a straggling lot--out on their own account, and without authority.

I was not enlightened about their object, till I saw the face of Francisco Moreno behind the half-opened door, scowlingly confronting them!

It was his house; though I had not before recognised it.

The conclusion came quick as electricity. They were there to arrest him, for killing one of their comrades on the night before, or being an accomplice in the act!

I heard them make the declaration to the young soldier himself.

They had sufficient respect for the law to treat with him for a quiet surrender. More probably they feared his resistance--as he stood sword in hand in the doorway--looking like anything but a man who was going to give himself up!

Had he yielded, they would scarce have kept faith with him. I had no doubt of their intention to slay him upon the spot, instead of taking him to their quarters.

It was a crisis that called for my interference; and I interfered.

It only needed the throwing open my cloak, and pointing out the "spread eagle" on my b.u.t.ton.

The slightest disobedience to me would have cost them a score of lashes each--"on the bare back, well laid on." Such was the phrasing of our military courts.

Nothing of the kind was attempted. I had full control of my rescuers-- who were altogether unconscious of the service they had done me-- ignorant also of the fact that it was I, not the Mexican, who had sent their _camarado_ to his long account!

For myself I had no fear of them. I only feared for my friend: who, if left to their tender mercies, would never have paid another visit to the Street of the Bishop.

I did not leave him to be judged by the Red Tribunal. I made a compromise with their self-esteem--by taking a lead in his arrest!

To this the accused man, with some show of reluctance, submitted; and, in ten minutes after, he was transported to the _Cuartel_, occupied by the Rifle Rangers--though not to suffer the degradation of being shut up in its guard-house.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

SIX O'CLOCK--IN THE ALAMEDA!

I had little difficulty in clearing the paroled officer from the charge of a.s.sa.s.sinating "a member of the Spy Company."

As soon as his accusers discovered what I knew of that affair, they not only withdrew their accusation, but their own precious persons, beyond the reach of court-martial inquiry.

When "wanted," to give testimony in the investigation that ensued, not one, but five, of Dominguez's followers were reported "missing!" The four coadjutors of him who had been killed thought it more prudent not to press the charge; and when sent for, could not be found either in the "Spy" quarters, or elsewhere in the City of the Angels!

They had taken their departure _a los Montes_; and I was left alone to tell the story of that nocturnal encounter.

For their testimony I cared not a straw; though the episode was not without some beneficial effects. It taught our renegade allies a little lesion; which was no doubt afterwards profitable--if not to themselves-- to those who were so unfortunate as to have dealings with them.

I was not so indifferent to the escape of the scoundrels who had attacked me in the "Street of the Sparrows;" and who appeared to have their head-quarters there.

In half an hour after leaving it with my escort of Red Hats, I was back again--accompanied by a score of Rifle Rangers, who a.s.sisted me in making an exploration of that interesting locality.

But the birds we went in search of had flown; and during the remainder of my stay in La Puebla de los Angeles, I never more set eyes upon my quaint challenger.

I learnt something more of him from Francisco--some chapters of his history that did not fail to astonish me. He had been a captain in the Mexican army; and would be so again, should the tyrant Santa Anna get restored to his dictatorial power. Whenever the star of the latter was in the ascendant, the former was sure of a commission.

But as the light of Santa Anna's star had been of late only intermittent, so also was the holding of his commission by Captain Torreano Carrasco.

During the intervals which Francisco jocosely styled "his leaves of absence," the gallant captain was in the habit of spending a portion of his time among the mountains.

"What does he do there?" I innocently inquired of my informant.

"_Carrambo, senor_! It is strange you should ask that. I thought everybody knew," was the answer.