With Cochrane the Dauntless Part 27

"It must be done when they bring in my supper," he said to himself. "I know that I am the last to be served in this corridor, for I can hear them stop at the door next to me before they come here. That is an advantage, as they would go straight down the corridor on leaving me. The first thing is to tear up these two rugs into strips, and make ropes for binding them.

Of course I shall have to tackle the soldier first. The warder has evidently been bribed and he will make no resistance. When I have once overpowered the soldier, I may get some hints from the other as to which is my best way of getting out of this. Of course this is Filippo's doing.

What a good fellow he is to run such a risk! There is one thing, if I once get fairly out of the cell I will be killed rather than be taken and handed over to the Inquisition."

Although he had not once been visited between meals, he thought it prudent not to begin the work of making his rope until the sun was getting low.

When it did so he tore up the blankets, twisted and knotted together the strips, and then sat down to await the coming of the jailers. He had already tried to wrench off one of the legs of the table, but it was too heavy and strongly made for him to succeed. He then thought of using the chair, but he could not feel certain of stunning the soldier with the first blow, and the latter might fire off his musket, or shout so loudly as to give the alarm; he therefore determined to trust to his hands alone.

He knew that he was greatly superior in strength to any of the little Spanish soldiers, and that with the advantage of surprise he ought to be able to succeed without noise.

About an hour after it became dark he heard the footsteps come to the next cell, then he took his place close against the wall by the side of his door and waited.

As the bolts were drawn back he took a deep breath. The warder as usual came in first, followed closely by the armed guard. As the latter entered, Stephen sprang upon him, and his hands closed upon the man's throat with so fierce a grip that the musket fell instantly from the fellow's hands.

Without losing his grasp in the slightest Stephen whirled him round and threw him against the warder, whom the shock brought to the ground, Stephen hurling the already almost insensible soldier upon him. Seizing the musket he brought the b.u.t.t end down upon the soldier's head with a force amply sufficient to stun him; then he rolled him off the warder's body and helped the latter to his feet.

"I was obliged to be rough with you," he said, "in order that that fellow when he comes to his senses may confirm your story that you were at once knocked down. Of course I shall tie and gag you both."

"Yes, and before you go you had better give me a tap with that musket. You need not hit me quite so hard as you did him, but it must be hard enough to make a good b.u.mp. You needn't be afraid of hurting me. I am well paid for anything that may happen, though indeed I did not expect it to come like this."

"In the first place I am going to take your clothes," Stephen said. "You can say that you were insensible when I stripped you; but first I want you to tell me how I can get out."

"You won't have much difficulty about that," the man replied. "When we have taken round supper our work is done for the night, and half of us are free to go out and spend the evening. You turn down the first staircase you come to, follow it to the bottom, then take the corridor to the right and go on until you come to an open door. Two soldiers will be standing there on sentry, but they ask no questions of the warders. You had better wait when you get in sight of the door till you see that no one else is going out, or it might be noticed that you were a stranger and questions might be asked you. Now you had better lose no time, or the others may be out before you get there, and the door be shut."

[Ill.u.s.tration: STEPHEN MAKES A DASH FOR LIBERTY, AND GRAPPLES WITH THE GUARD.]

As he spoke he was taking off his uniform, which consisted of a dark jacket, trousers, and cap, and a brown belt from which hung a sword.

Stephen put them on, then tightly bound the insensible man, whose lungs were now playing, stuffed a portion of the rug into his mouth and fastened it there with a strip tied at the back of the head. Then he similarly bound and gagged the warder, and then gave him a heavy blow on the head, feeling that it was best for the man himself that it should be a severe one. Then he took the sentry's musket and hid it under the bed, so that, if by any chance he managed to free himself of his bonds, he could not fire it to give the alarm. Then putting the cap on his head Stephen went out, bolted the door, and proceeded down the corridor. Following the instructions that had been given him he made his way towards the door.

Just as he neared it he saw a group of three or four warders going out together, and waiting for a moment till they had disappeared boldly followed them, and pa.s.sed between the sentries into the open air. So rapidly and easily had the escape been managed that he could scarcely believe that he had escaped from the hands of the military authorities, still less from the fate that would have awaited him had he fallen into the hands of the Inquisition. Not knowing which was the front of the building, he followed the lane, upon which the side door opened, to its end, and then finding that he was now at the rear of the prison he returned; and gaining the street in which was the main entrance, followed out his instructions and tapped three times at the door of the house indicated. There was a little pause and then it was opened a short distance.

"Is it you, senor?" a female voice asked.

"It is the man whom you are, I believe, expecting, and who received your message."

With an exclamation of gladness the woman opened the door and, as he entered, closed it behind him.

"Follow me, senor," she said; "there is nothing in the pa.s.sage to run against."

A few steps further Stephen heard a door open, a flood of light poured into the pa.s.sage, and his guide said "Quick!" He entered and she closed the door behind him.

"Thanks to the saints that you have escaped, senor!" a voice said. "It seemed to us well-nigh impossible that you could do so; but, knowing how brave and enterprising you English are, Filippo said that he had great faith that you might manage it."

Stephen now saw that the speaker was a young and very pretty girl.

"I am speaking to the Senorita Inez Conchas," he said respectfully. "How can I thank you and Don Filippo sufficiently for your action in my behalf.

You have saved my life, for a.s.suredly had I not known that I should be handed over to the Inquisition no thought of making my escape to-night would have entered my mind."

"It is all Filippo's doing," she said. "He made me write the letter, and got me to come here because he could not come himself,-I and my old nurse with me. She is sitting in the front room on watch; it was she who opened the door to you. You see, we could not be sure whether the note would reach you; the man whom we bribed might have turned traitor and given it to the governor. My nurse arranged it; for it would never have done for Filippo to have appeared in the matter, and I am so well known in the place that it would have been very dangerous. However, we hoped that all would be well, for half the man's bribe was not to be paid to him until you were free. However, we placed her at the corner of the street this afternoon in order to watch if anyone came to this house or stopped to look at it earnestly. The people are away in the country, and my nurse, who knew the woman who is left in charge here, got her to lend her the key until to-morrow morning, on some excuse or other. Filippo brought me round just before dark; there is an entertainment to-night at the Viceroy's, and he had to be there. Indeed, it was the best place he could be, as no suspicion can now fall upon him of having aided in your escape. How did you manage it, senor?"

Stephen briefly related how it had been brought about.

"That was well done indeed!" the girl said, clapping her hands merrily. "I scarce thought that it could be your knock when you came, for we had agreed that if you did manage to make your escape it would not be until very late, and it seemed impossible that you could have got out so early.

However, that is all the better, as you will now have a long start. Now, senor, the first thing for you to do will be to put on the disguise Filippo has prepared for you in that bag on the table. Here is a piece of burnt cork for darkening your eyebrows and eyelashes, and a false moustache that will quite change your appearance. I will go into the next room with nurse; when you are dressed you can call, and I will come back."

As soon as he was alone Stephen opened the bag and drew out an attire such as would be worn by a respectable Peruvian merchant. This he put on, darkened his eyebrows, and stuck on the moustache, and acknowledged when he viewed himself in a small mirror that he should not have known himself.

On his opening the door the girl came in from the other room again.

"We have talked over, Filippo and I, the way you had best go, and we both agree that the journey south would be altogether too dangerous. It will naturally be supposed that you have gone that way, and the news will be sent down by hors.e.m.e.n, so that the troops and the authorities will be on the look-out for you everywhere. We both think that, although the journey is very long and toilsome, your best plan will be to ride straight inland, cross the Andes, and come down into Brazil. You are not likely to be questioned on that line, which no one would imagine that you would be likely to take. You may meet with adventures on the way, but you English people are fond of adventures. At any rate that plan will be safer for you, and indeed for us."

"Why for you, senorita?"

"If you were to be captured," she said, "you would be questioned as to who aided you, and there are means in these prisons by which they can wring the truth from the strongest and bravest. There are tortures, senor, that flesh and blood could not withstand."

"You are right, Donna Inez," Stephen said gravely. "For myself I should be ready to run the risk of getting through to the south, but what you have said decides me. I would die rather than say a word that could betray you and your cousin. But no one can say what one would do under fiendish tortures; therefore I at once accept your plan."

"That is right," the girl said. "Filippo said that he was sure that for our sake you would consent to it. Now for your instructions. Nurse will, in the first place, take me home; then she will return here; she will be back in half an hour. She will take away with her the things that you have worn, and will to-night cut them up and burn them, so that no trace may remain of your visit here. When she returns she will guide you through the town. At a cottage a quarter of a mile outside a muleteer with two animals is awaiting you; he does not know who you are, but believes you to be a Brazilian who has been on this side of the continent for some years, chiefly in Chili, and so speak that language, and now, being afraid to proceed by water, are about to return by the pa.s.ses. How far you will be able to get him to accompany you I cannot say, but at present he has promised to take you over the Andes. The best course to take then you can talk over with the muleteer. You will find many details of the various routes in a letter Filippo has given him for you. And now adieu, senor. We shall think of you often, and I shall pray for your safe return to your friends. Possibly we may meet again some day, for Filippo has a powerful relation who, it is expected, may some day be the Spanish amba.s.sador in London, and he says that he shall try and get him to take him on his staff."

"I should indeed be glad if it could be so, senorita. I shall to the end of my life entertain the liveliest feelings of grat.i.tude to you and Don Filippo for your kindness. Have you a pencil and paper?"

The girl pointed to the table, on which stood writing materials. Stephen wrote his father's address upon it and handed it to her.

"That is my address in England," he said. "I pray you, when you return to Spain, to beg Don Filippo to write to me there, and I am sure to get it sooner or later. Directly I receive his letter I shall make a point of taking a pa.s.sage for Spain in order to thank you more fully and heartily than I can now do. It would be dangerous were I to write to you here."

She nodded. "Adieu, senor."

"Adieu, senorita. May your life with Don Filippo be as happy as you both deserve!"

He put the hand she gave him to his lips. A minute later she and her nurse left the house, and Stephen remained wondering over the events that had happened.

"It is certainly the best plan," he said to himself. "I daresay there will be lots of hardships to go through, but it will be a glorious trip. Fancy going down the Amazon from almost its source to the sea! The senorita said nothing about money, but Filippo has shown himself so thoughtful in every other way that I have no doubt he has not forgotten that for such a journey some money at least will be required. Happily I am now in a position to pay anything he may advance me, so I need not scruple to take it. He told me that his father was very rich, but that money was very little good to him in Peru, and that he had a very handsome allowance, but no means whatever of spending it, especially in such a place as San Carlos. I will write him a line or two now, and will give it to the old woman after I have read his letter."

He sat down and wrote a note expressive of his warmest grat.i.tude to Filippo, and concluded: "_In other matters too I am deeply your debtor, but this fortunately I can, as I told you, discharge far more easily than I can my debt of grat.i.tude. As soon as I reach England I will pay in the amount to a house having connections in Spain, and order them to have it placed to your account with some good firm there, with instructions to write to you saying that they hold it payable to your order. My name will not be mentioned, so that in case of any accident the money will not be traceable to me. My other and greater debt must for ever remain unpaid, but to the end of my life I shall remain the debtor of you and Donna Inez.

Wishing you both a long life and every happiness together, I remain always your grateful friend._"

He folded the letter up and put it into his pocket, and then waited until he heard the three knocks on the door. Stephen blew out the candle, went along the pa.s.sage to the front door, opened it, and went out. Without a word the old woman turned and walked along the street. He followed at a short distance, and was presently in a busy thoroughfare. Twenty minutes walking took them beyond the town, and they presently stopped at a cottage where a candle was burning in the window.

"This is the house, senor," she said, speaking for the first time.

She went up to the door and tapped at it. It was opened by a man in the attire of a muleteer.

"This is the senor who will accompany you, Gomez," she said. "Now, senor, my work is done." And she turned to go.

"Wait a moment," he said. "Gomez has a letter for me, and I want to read it before I give you a note that I wish you to take back and to hand to Donna Inez."

"Here is the letter, senor," the muleteer said.

Stephen took it to the light and opened it. It was a long one, but he skipped the first part, which was full of directions and hints for the journey. Running his eye down it fell upon some figures, and he read: "_Gomez will hand you a bag containing eight hundred dollars. This, I have no doubt, will be sufficient for your journey down the Amazon and to pay your pa.s.sage-money home. You are heartily welcome to it. Some day, if it please you, you can pay me back; but if aught befalls you on your way down do not let the thought of this paltry debt trouble you in any way. I know not whether this will ever reach your hands, but pray that it may do so, and that I may have the satisfaction of knowing that Inez and I have had some part in saving the life of a brave English gentleman._" Then with a few more words of adieu the letter closed.

Stephen had already felt that there was some money in the pockets of his trousers, and he now handed his letter to the old woman and pulled out some gold.

"No," she said, drawing back; "I would die to please my young mistress, but not one penny would I touch from the hand of a foreign heretic."

A minute later and she was gone. The muleteer laughed at her outbreak.