The Web of the Golden Spider Part 26

"G.o.d," he cried. "Who are you? You speak English!"

Wilson repeated his question impatiently.

"If you can walk, follow me and I'll take you out of this hole."

The man tottered to his feet, groping with his hand along the wall.

"Here," said Wilson, overcoming a shrinking repugnance he now felt for the man, "take my arm."

Sorez grabbed it and with this much help was able to get along. And so, with the girl he loved upon one arm and the man he hated upon the other, Wilson made his way along the slippery subterranean galleries.

He was practically carrying them both, but the lightness of the one almost made up for the burden of the other. The only thing for which he prayed was that none of those whimpering things he had loosed from their cells should cross his path. This was granted; for all he saw or heard he might have been treading the catacombs.

When he came again into the sunlight he was blinded for a second, while the other two clapped their hands over their eyes, suffering for quite a few moments intense pain. Except for being a bit pale, the girl did not look badly. Her hair had become loosened and her gown begrimed, but Wilson still saw her as she was that night when she lay curled up asleep in the big chair. As for Sorez, whether it was the pain of the torture or what, his hair, which before was an iron gray, had turned almost white.

The three made their way across the courtyard and again into the palace. He heard noise and confusion on the floors above. The halls were rank with the smell of powder. As they went on they found the floor covered with splinters, and on either side saw the panels rent and torn as though by a huge iron claw. There was still hoa.r.s.e shouting and the occasional snap of a pistol above, which showed that Stubbs had not yet succeeded in controlling the men.

He had no idea as to where it was possible to take the girl and Sorez, but he hoped that he might come upon a room in the palace here where it would be safe to leave them until it was possible to get out into the city. Perhaps, too, if he reached the entrance, he might find Stubbs. Sorez was beginning to weigh heavily upon his arm, and he resented having to sacrifice to him any of the strength he needed for the girl. So he staggered on to the very room where a short while before he had fought for his life. But here he was checked by a noise from without--cheering as from the advance of several hundred men. Was it possible that reenforcements had arrived for the government? If so, this meant immediate danger. They would exact vengeance swiftly and surely upon any man known to be a.s.sociated with the revolution. This would leave the girl in as bad a plight as that from which he had just rescued her. He shook off Sorez and, picking up the girl, started into the small anteroom; but before he was out of sight the first of the soldiers had sprung up the steps. With an oath three of the men seized him and drew him back, the girl still in his arms, to the door. Jo roused herself and struggled to her feet, facing the strange soldiers without a sign of fear. Wilson reached his holster, but the girl checked his hand, realizing, even in her torpid condition, the uselessness of it. In a minute others flocked up the stairs and around them with noisy demonstration, and soon, following these, the main body of the regiment with a snappy gray-haired officer at their head.

The crowd, save for the two guards, gave way from before the trio and left them confronting their leader. By some description of Danbury's or by instinct, Wilson recognized him as none other than Otaballo.

This then was the main body of the Revolutionists! Before he had time to speak Wilson saw that his own ident.i.ty was beginning to dawn on Otaballo. He stepped forward and spoke the single word:

"Americans?"

The effect was magical. The soldiers drew back to respectful attention.

"Americans," answered Wilson.

The general spoke in broken English.

"How came you here?"

"I am with Danbury," answered Wilson. "The girl and the man were in the dungeons below."

"Ah! These are the two captured by the--the late government?"

"Yes. I would like shelter for the girl. She is very weak."

"_Dios!_ you shall have refuge at once."

He turned to one of his lieutenants and in Spanish gave his command.

"In the name of the Queen seize the house opposite."

He turned back to Wilson.

"I will leave you five men; is that enough?"

"Thanks."

Otaballo at the head of his men proceeded to sterner business, throwing out guards through the palace and making the victory secure.

Half carrying the girl, Wilson followed the soldiers across the street. Two of them supported Sorez. The house opposite was empty, the occupants having deserted it at the approach of the enemy. It was a rambling, story-and-a-half structure, somewhat elaborately furnished.

Wilson placed a guard at the front and rear of the place with orders to admit no one until he had first seen them, and then carried the girl upstairs. She was not asleep, but so nearly numb with the strain that she could neither think nor speak. It seemed to him that there was only one thing to do--let her sleep. Rest at present was more necessary than food. On the second story there was a fine large bedroom, with a big bed covered with snow-white linen. He placed her upon this.

"Sleep as long as you wish," he bade her, though he knew she scarcely heard his voice. "I shall be outside."

Before he closed the door he turned and saw her breathing deeply with closed eyes. It seemed only humane to care for Sorez. On the first floor he found a divan and, with the help of the soldiers, arranged him upon this, where he, too, was soon fast asleep.

Then he returned to the second floor and, lying down before her door, was soon unconscious himself. How long he lay so he could not tell, but he was aroused by the sound of shouting outside the house.

Springing to his feet, he listened at her door; there was no sound. He opened it and looked within; she lay where he had left her, still sleeping. Going to the window he looked out and was surprised to find the street crowded with citizens. It must have been long after noon, as he could tell by the sun. From all appearances this was some sort of a patriotic demonstration before the old palace. He watched it with indifferent interest until a closed carriage drove up. At this moment he saw Stubbs himself step from the palace and at the side of Otaballo approach the carriage. Here was his opportunity to make known his whereabouts to his partner. He tiptoed to the stairs and descended to the first floor. He warned the guard at the exit once more to admit no one and hurried out to push his way to Stubbs' side. The crowd recognized him as an American from his dress and opened up a path for him. But even so he would not have reached his goal had not Stubbs seen him and, with a glad shout of welcome neglected his diplomatic duties to grasp the hand of the man he thought dead. At this moment the princess herself stepped from the vehicle and, ignoring the applause of the mult.i.tude, turned her attention to Wilson. She hesitated a moment, and then addressed him, speaking faultless English:

"Pardon me, but are not you one--one of Mr. Danbury's friends?"

"We both are," answered Wilson.

"Your name is----"

"Wilson."

"Ah, how fortunate! It is you of all men I wished most to see. If----"

A shout from a thousand throats rent the air. She looked dazed.

"If your Highness would bow," suggested Otaballo.

She turned to the gathering, smiled, and bowed. But her scant courtesy was scarcely finished before her eyes were again upon Wilson and the anxious look uppermost in them.

"I must see you," she commanded. "Follow me into the palace."

She raised the hem of her light dress and tripped up the stairs looking more like a schoolgirl than a queen. Wilson and Stubbs followed after Otaballo, who appeared somewhat worried. They entered the palace, and at her request a guard led them into the privacy of a small room--as it happened, the room which Wilson had twice before visited that day.

"I asked you to come," she began a bit nervously, "because you seemed to be the friend of whom d.i.c.ky talked to the last----"

"The last!" exclaimed Wilson.

"Oh, not that," she a.s.sured him, grasping his fear. "He isn't--isn't dead. But you knew he was wounded?"

"No," he answered quickly, "I had not heard."

"Before the palace here and--he was brought to me. His wound isn't so very serious, the doctor says,--it's in his leg and he won't be able to walk for some time."

"I am sorry for him," said Wilson, sincerely. "If there is anything I can do----"

"There is! There is! I have had him carried to his boat. He was unconscious and the doctor gave him something to make him sleep."

"Drugged him?" he demanded roughly.

"Only so that he would go quietly. Then I gave the sailors orders to sail back home with him."

"But why did you wish him to go back?"