Where Duty Called Part 13

"We are not the only ones in trouble," whispered Jack.

"What does it mean? Hark, Jack! she is pleading for her liberty.

There is a man's voice, and he, too, is begging for some one to spare his life. Is there nothing we can do for them?"

"It looks as if we had about all we could look after to save our own lives, lad. But, as long as it is in our way let's creep a little nearer the place."

The insurgents, having apparently moved farther to their right, they cautiously advanced, being careful not to disturb a bush or make any noise. They advanced in this way for a few rods, when they found themselves on the margin of a sunken swamp, dense with a growth of vines and bushes enveloped in moss and lichens. Finding this impenetrable, they crawled along its border, though forced to steer more to their right than they thought prudent. It was evidently this impa.s.sable jungle which had changed the course of the insurgents.

They must have advanced a hundred rods without finding any end to the swamp, when the sound of voices now became distinctly heard, though they were not raised above an ordinary tone. It was the same woman speaking they had heard before, while her accents were scarcely less intense. She was saying, in Spanish:

"Have mercy, senors! I have never wronged you nor the poor country you profess to be fighting for. My poor husband died in her defense, and I am willing to give my life in her cause, but do not torture me."

"Tell us where he is and we will spare you," replied a masculine voice, pitched in a high key.

"Alas! I do not know. I would that I did, senors. But if I did you cannot think me cowardly enough to betray him, not at the price of my poor life. G.o.d forbid that I should for a moment have such a thought or that you should so far misjudge me in my weakness. He is all there is left me--if he yet lives, which I am not certain--my n.o.ble son, the n.o.blest of the De Caprians."

At the mention of that name Ronie and Jack instantly remembered the brave young exile then with Harrie in prison at San Carlos, and, as may be imagined, listened with excitement hard to suppress for the next words, which were hissed rather than spoken by the man who held her a prisoner:

"You lie!" and the concealed listeners fancied they could see him lift his armed hand over her head, as if he would kill her then and there.

Her reply was spoken with the calmness born of despair:

"Think as you will, senor; I have spoken the truth. Had I a dozen lives depending on my answer, it would be the same. Kill me if you wish. I can die without a regret, knowing that Francisco is not here to witness my death or suffer at your hands, El Capitan."

"She is Francisco's mother," whispered Ronie, anxiously.

"Ay, lad; and he is Rhoades, the insurgent leader."

"Must we let him butcher her in cold blood and remain inactive?" asked Ronie, whose hot nature was aroused by this unwarranted treatment of a helpless captive.

"Hist!" warned Jack. "We are watched by an enemy in yon coppice."

Ronie saw nothing in the direction indicated by his companion, but under the circ.u.mstances he felt certain he was right, and he grasped his firearm more firmly, feeling that it would not be long before he would be obliged to use it. The voices of the speakers ahead had become silent, so that not a sound broke the stillness of the scene.

"What can we do, Jack?"

"I have been thinking lad, that it may be well for us to do a little scouting, in order to get a better idea of the situation. That fellow in the thicket has got to be disposed of before we can do much else.

If you will lie here and not let any of them spring a surprise on you, I will see what I can do in the way of Indian warfare. I do not believe I have lost the little cunning I picked up in fighting the Igorrotos of Luzon."

Without waiting for Ronie's reply, Jack began to creep to their rear, moving so silently that our hero was not aware of his retreat until he had fairly left his side. The voice of the insurgent chief again fell on his ear, followed by the reply of the woman, which was spoken too low for him to distinguish. Jack had now disappeared, and he knew he was alone in the midst of enemies.

Five minutes dragged themselves slowly away without bringing any material change in the situation. Ronie had not discovered any sign of Jack, but twice he had seen a man's head thrust cautiously above the matted undergrowth where he knew one of their enemies lurked.

Evidently the scout, for such he judged him to be, was getting uneasy and anxious to end the suspense. During the time he had heard a small body of hors.e.m.e.n ride up to where the insurgent leader and his prisoner were stopping.

"Jack told me at the end of five minutes to lift my cap on the muzzle above the rim of bushes," he mused. "The time must be up now. I think I will try it."

Then Ronie removed the covering on his head, and, placing it on the end of his rifle barrel, gently raised the weapon as he had been told, in doubt as to what the result would be. He had barely accomplished the simple feat before the sharp report of a firearm rang out, and a bullet sped just over him with a hearty zip! The cap dropped by his side, and when he came to pick it up he found that it had a hole through its crown where the bullet had gone. Most a.s.suredly the insurgent was a good marksman, and he shuddered to think what his own fate would have been had he carelessly exposed himself.

The shot of the sharpshooter brought an exclamation from the lips of the chief, but beyond that Ronie heard nothing to explain to him what was succeeding. He fancied at first he heard the man starting toward him, but he was not quite sure of it. He was becoming alarmed in regard to Jack. Where could he be all this time? Had he fallen into some trap and become a prisoner? In the midst of these reflections he suddenly became aware of the presence of some one near him, and he was about to act in his defense when the familiar voice of Jack caused him to stop.

"Easy, lad! It's all right with him yonder. Your ruse worked to perfection and just in the nick of time. I managed to handle him without making a disturbance. His shot has not seemed to arouse them, and it is time for us to act. The road is not far away, and the insurgents seemed to have halted near the outlet of this swamp. I judge they are waiting for some of their force to join them. Besides the woman, they have one or two other captives, which I judge they are taking to headquarters. If you feel like looking at them, follow me.

We might as well go that way as any other, for the woods are full of the cusses behind us. Somehow, they run an idea we have taken to the mountains, which is natural, I suppose."

Ronie was nothing loath to move, as he had begun to tire of this inactivity, so he kept close behind Jack, who began to worm his way along the margin of the lowlands, until, after several minutes of this tedious advance, Jack paused.

"If I am not mistaken, we are within gunshot of these brown-skinned rebels," he whispered. "But there is no doubt but they are on the lookout for us, and we must move with great caution. Let's make another hitch."

Once more they went forward, keeping close to the earth, and under the cover of the overhanging tropical vegetation, being careful how they disturbed each bush, and with their eyes constantly trying to pierce the gloom around them. So, like woodsmen following some Indian trail in the days of the pioneers, they wormed their way along, Jack ever and anon lifting his head slightly so as to get a wider view of his surroundings, but always careful not to expose any part of his figure.

Finally he paused again, Ronie quickly imitating his example, while he listened for the explanation he knew his companion was ready to make.

Though slightly behind him, he had discovered the shadowy outlines of several hors.e.m.e.n drawn up in a semi-circle.

"We have reached the road," said Jack, softly. "Can you see the hors.e.m.e.n just to our right, where the way curves slightly?"

"Yes," replied Ronie, in the same cautious tone.

"And the woman? She is a little beyond the main body, on the gray horse."

"I see her, now that you have called my attention to her. I should know her by her skirts."

"Right, lad. The brook is just below. The crafty dogs are still harkening and waiting. But they will not wait much longer. Hark! a body of hors.e.m.e.n are coming up the road at this moment! It is probably these they are waiting for."

"What do you propose to do, Jack?"

"Get a little nearer, lad."

"Do you think we can save her?"

"We will try, but it can be done only at great risk and under cover of the excitement of the meeting of these squads. Come on, lad, every moment is precious to us."

CHAPTER XV.

A FRIENDLY VOICE.

In the work that followed, Jack Greenland showed that he was no novice in woodcraft, but it would take more s.p.a.ce than I can give to it to describe minutely the details of what I shall only attempt to outline.

It would not do for them to leave the thick fringe of bushes overhanging the road, and yet, in order to accomplish his purpose, it was necessary for them to shorten the s.p.a.ce between them and the rebel riders under "El Capitan," as the mountain insurgent was called. To do this more safely, Jack retreated about a yard, and then crept forward in the same direction of the road. In spite of his extreme caution, Ronie heard a stick snap under his knee, when his heart came into his mouth. Fortunately, one of the horses stamped its foot at this moment, and thus the fainter sound was drowned by the heavier. Then the harsh voice of the insurgent was heard to exclaim:

"Fire on the head of the laggard! I cannot wait here any longer.

Forward, men! on to the mansion, which shall be the cage for our bird."

Without further delay the body of half a dozen riders struck their impatient steeds smartly with their spurs, and would have swiftly disappeared from the scene, but for an accident to the foremost. His animal, thus suddenly aroused, reared into the air and then plunged forward, but, either stepping into a hole or stumbling, it staggered ahead, coming nearly upon its knees. Its rider was flung headlong into the bushes within a hand's reach of our amateur scouts!

This mishap plunged the rest of the riders into confusion, nearly unseating Rhoades himself, but who rallied with a horrible imprecation upon the head of his unfortunate follower. With rare presence of mind the woman on the gray horse wheeled her spirited animal quickly around to make a bold dash for freedom. There were hors.e.m.e.n behind her, but that was her only way of escape, if she could hope to get away at all.

In a moment the entire scene had become one of wildest excitement, and above the clatter of hoofs and the cries of his men, rang the voice of the leader, as he swung his own horse around, calling upon his panic-stricken followers:

"Don't let her escape! Shoot her if must be, but stop her!"