The Flag of Distress Part 37

Diaz, unknown to the family, and therefore without fear of his voice being recognised, is to do the talking.

No one answers the knock; and it is repeated. Louder, and still louder.

The s.e.xagenarian janitor sleeps soundly to-night, thinks De Lara, deeming it strange.

Another "rat-at-tat" with the pistol-b.u.t.t, followed by the usual formulary:

"_Ambre la puerta_!"

At length comes a response from within; but not the customary "_Quen es_?" nor anything in Spanish. On the contrary, the speech which salutes the ears of those seeking admission is in a different tongue, and tone altogether unlike that of a native Californian.

"Who the old scratch are ye?" asks a voice from inside, while a heavy footstep is heard coming along the _saguan_. Before the startled burglars can shape a reply, the voice continues:

"d.a.m.n ye! What d'ye want anyhow--wakin' a fellur out o' his sleep at this time o' the night? 'Twould sarve ye right if I sent a bullet through the door at ye. Take care what you're about. I've got my shootin'-iron handy; a Colt's revolver--biggest size at thet."

"_Por Dios_! what does this mean?" mutters De Lara.

"Tell him, Diaz," he adds, in _sotto-voce_ to the c.o.c.kfighter--"tell him we're from the British man-o'-war with--_Carrai_! I forgot, you don't speak English. I must do it myself. _He_ won't know who it is." Then raising his voice: "We want to see Don Gregorio Montijo. We bring a message from the British man-o'-war--from the two officers."

"Consarn the British man-o'-war!" interrupts the surly speaker inside; "an' yur message, an' yur two officers, I know nothin' 'bout them. As for Don Gregorio, if ye want to get sight on him, ye're a preeshus way wide o' the mark. He ain't here any more. He's gin up the house, an'

tuk everything o' hisn out o't this mornin'. I'm only hyar in charge o'

the place. Guess you'll find both the Don an' his darters at the _Parker_--the most likeliest place to tree thet lot."

Don Gregorio gone!--his gold--his girls! Only an empty house, in charge of a caretaker, who carries a Colt's repeating pistol, biggest size, and would use it on the smallest provocation!

No good their going inside now, but a deal of danger. Anything but pleasant medicine would be a pill from that six-shooter.

"_Carramba! Caraio! Chingara! Maldita_!"

Such are the wild exclamations that issue from the lips of the disappointed housebreakers, as they turn away from the dismantled dwelling, and hasten to regain their horses.

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.

A SCRATCH CREW.

It was a fortunate inspiration that led the ex-haciendado to have his gold secretly carried on board the Chilian ship; another, that influenced him to transfer his family, and household G.o.ds, to an hotel in the town.

It was all done in a day--that same day. Every hour, after the sailing of the _Crusader_, had he become more anxious; for every hour brought intelligence of some new act of outlawry in the neighbourhood, impressing him with the insecurity, not only of his Penates, but the lives of himself and his ladies. So long as the British ship lay in port, it seemed a protection to him; and although this may have been but fancy, it served somewhat to tranquillise his fears. Soon as she was gone, he gave way to them, summoned Silvestre, with a numerous retinue of _cargadores_, and swept the house clean of everything he intended taking--the furniture alone being left, as part of the purchased effects.

He has indeed reason to congratulate himself on his rapid removal, as he finds on the following day, when visiting his old home for some trifling purpose, and there hearing what had happened during the night.

The man in charge--a stalwart American, armed to the teeth--gives him a full account of the nocturnal visitors. There were four, he says-- having counted them through the keyhole--inquiring for him, Don Gregorio. They appeared greatly disappointed at not getting an interview with him; and went off uttering adjurations in Spanish, though having held their parley in English.

A message from the British man-of-war! And brought by men who swore in Spanish! Strange all that, thinks Don Gregorio, knowing the _Crusader_ should then be at least a hundred leagues off at sea.

Besides, the messengers have not presented themselves at the _Parker House_, to which the caretaker had directed them.

"What can it mean?" asks the ex-haciendado of himself.

Perhaps the sailor who is now first officer of the Chilian ship may know something of it; and he will question him next time he goes aboard.

He has, however, little hope of being enlightened in that quarter; his suspicions turning elsewhere. He cannot help connecting Messrs. De Lara and Calderon with the occurrence. Crozier's letter, coupled with the further information received from the bearer of it, has thrown such a light on the character of these two _enhalleros_, he can believe them capable of anything. After their attempt to rob the young officers, and murder them as well, they would not hesitate to serve others the same; and the demand for admission to his house may have been made by these very men, with a couple of confederates--their design to plunder it, if not do something worse.

Thus reflecting, he is thankful for having so unconsciously foiled them--indeed, deeming it a Providence.

Still is he all the more solicitous to leave a land beset with such dangers. Even in the town he does not feel safe. Robbers and murderers walk boldly abroad through the streets; not alone, but in the company of judges who have tried without condemning them; while lesser criminals stand by drinking-bars, hobn.o.bbing with the constables who either hold them in charge, or have just released them, after a mock-hearing before some magistrate, with eyes blind as those of Justice herself--blinded by the gold-dust of California!

Notwithstanding all this, Don Gregorio need have no fear for his ladies.

Their sojourn at the hotel may be somewhat irksome, and uncongenial; still they are safe. Rough-looking and boisterous as are some of their fellow-guests, they are yet in no way rude. The most refined or sensitive lady need not fear moving in their midst. A word or gesture of insult to her would call forth instant chastis.e.m.e.nt.

It is not on their account he continues anxious, but because of his unprotected treasure. Though secreted aboard the _Condor_, it is still unsafe. Should its whereabouts get whispered abroad, there are robbers bold enough, not only to take it from the Chilian skipper, but set fire to his ship, himself in her, and cover their crime by burning everything up.

Aware of all this, the ex-haciendado, with the help of friendly Silvestre, has half-a-dozen trusty men placed aboard of her--there to stay till a crew can be engaged. It is a costly matter, but money may save money, and now is not the time to cavil at expenses.

As yet, not a sailor has presented himself. None seem caring to ship "for Valparaiso and intermediate ports," even at the double wages offered in the _Diario_. The _Condor's_ forecastle remains untenanted, except by the six longsh.o.r.e men, who temporarily occupy it, without exactly knowing why they are there; but contented to make no inquiry, so long as they are receiving their ten dollars a day. Of crew, there is only the captain himself, his first officer, and the cook. The orangs do not count.

Day by day, Don Gregorio grows more impatient, and is in constant communication with Silvestre.

"Offer higher wages," he says. "Engage sailors at any price."

The shipping-agent yields a.s.sent; inserts a second _aviso_ in the Spanish paper, addressed to _marineros_ of all nations. Triple wages to those who will take service on a well-appointed ship. In addition, all the usual allowances, the best of grub and grog. Surely this should get the _Condor_ a crew.

And at length it does. Within twenty-four hours after the advertis.e.m.e.nt has appeared, sailors begin to show on her decks. They come singly, or in twos and threes; and keep coming till as many as half-a-score have presented themselves. They belong to different nationalities, speaking several tongues--among them English, French, and Danish. But the majority appear to be Spaniards, or Spanish-Americans--as might have been expected from the _Condor_ being a Chilian ship.

Among them is the usual variety of facial expression; though, in one respect, a wonderful uniformity. Scarce a man of them whose countenance is not in some way unprepossessing--either naturally of sinister cast, or brought to it by a career of sinful dissipation. Several of them show signs of having been recently drinking--with eyes bleary and bloodshot. Of strife, too, its souvenirs visible in other eyes that are blackened, and scars upon cheeks not yet cicatrised. Some are still in a state of inebriety, and stagger as they stray about the decks.

Under any other circ.u.mstances, such sailors would stand no chance of getting shipped. As it is, they are accepted--not one refused. Captain Lantanas has no choice, and knows it. Without them he is helpless, and it would be hopeless for him to think of putting to sea. If he do not take them, the _Candour_ may swing idly at her anchor for weeks, it might be months.

Quick as they came aboard, he enters their names on the ship's books, while Harry Blew a.s.signs them their separate bunks in the forepeak.

One, a Spaniard, by name Padilla, shows credentials from some former ship, which procure him the berth of _piloto-segundo_ (second mate).

After the ten had been taken, no more present themselves. Even the big bounty offered does not tempt another tar from the saloons of San Francisco. In any other seaport, it would empty every sailors'

boarding-house, to its last lodger.

And ten hands are not enough to work the good ship _Condor_.

Her captain knows it, and waits another day, hoping he may get a few more to complete her complement; but hopes in vain, the supply seems exhausted.

Becoming convinced of this, he determines to set sail with such crew as he has secured. But little more remains to be done; some stores to be shipped, provisions for the voyage, the best and freshest San Francisco can afford. For he who authorises their inlay cares not for the cost-- only that things may be made comfortable. Don Gregorio gives _carte-blanche_ for providing the vessel; and it is done according to his directions.

At length everything is ready, and the _Condor_ only awaits her pa.s.sengers. Her cabin has been handsomely furnished; its best state-room decorated to receive two ladies, fair as ever set foot on board ship.

CHAPTER FORTY SIX.