Harry and Bert had hardly time to inspect the bare room in which they were imprisoned, when the door opened again and two men entered. They removed the straps from the boys' wrists and retired without a word. A key grated in the lock after the door had closed. Harry walked over quickly and tried to open it. There was no handle or lock on the inside and it would not yield to pressure.
"Well," said Harry, after a short silence, dropping onto one of the beds.
"Well," repeated Bert in the same half-questioning tone.
"We are prisoners hard and fast. What do you think they mean to do with us?"
"Send us on to Havana, maybe, for the inspection of Weyler. But in the meantime what are we going to do? I don't believe in letting them have it all their own way, do you?"
"No, not when I can get my breath, but their methods are so rapid and one-sided that they make me dizzy."
"The first thing to consider is some plan of escape."
"And if we escaped we wouldn't be any betteroff than we were in the woods. We wouldn't know where to go. However, it would be wise to make a more careful inspection of our prison house for possible future use."
Acting on this suggestion the boys made a survey of the room. It was a square apartment, with walls of grey stone. The floor was composed of smooth stone slabs. The ceiling was heavily timbered. There were two barred openings in one of the walls just above their heads. They pushed over the table, and climbing up on it, looked out. In the moonlight, they could see that the outlook was on what was apparently the jail yard, a large space enclosed by a high wall. Nothing interposed between them and the free air outside but two iron bars. They shook these with all their strength, but they were sunk firmly in the stone frame and would not budge.
"I don't think they need feel uneasy, for fear we will escape," said Harry, after they had finished their inspection.
"Nothing left but to knock down the turnkey. Must always call 'em turnkeys in a stone jail like this."
There was a sound of a key in the lock and the door swung open again. The man with the clanking keys entered, followed by two others, who promptly slipped a pair of handcuffs onthe wrists of the boys, and taking each boy by the arm they led them out of the jail and back to the building into which they had first been ushered at the muzzles of the guns.
The same dignitary who had ordered their incarceration still sat at his desk, although in a more dignified attitude. At his right, sat a man who seemed to be a clerk. On the left, stood the fat officer and the four soldiers. An elderly man with grey side-whiskers stood near the desk talking with the presiding personage. When the boys entered he approached them and held out his hand.
"I am Consul Wyman. I understand you are Americans and in some sort of trouble."
Both boys grasped his hand warmly. It was a great relief to find one who spoke their tongue and who could make their situation clear to their captors. And the thought that he represented officially the Government of the United States, restored much of their waning confidence in themselves.
"Mr. Wyman," said Harry, "we certainly are glad to meet you. We are Americans and we are in trouble with these Spanish gentlemen. We do not know why yet. We did not know it was a crime, or against the laws to travel in Cuba or we should have selected some other country for our explorations."
"The trouble is that your presence in this part of the island strikes the authorities as suspicious. You have apparently passed through none of the regular ports of entry, for a careful watch is kept on all strangers here now, and travelling through a country so infested as this is with Cuban bandits——"
"Bandits?" interrupted Harry, looking Mr. Wyman straight in the eye. Captain Dynamite's teachings had taken very deep root in the heart of the American boys.
"Well," said Mr. Wyman, "they call themselves insurgents, but they are not recognized belligerents you know." Here Mr. Wyman lowered his voice almost to a whisper: "And you know we have to be very diplomatic in dealing with these Spanish gentlemen, they are so sensitive."
"Mr. Wyman," asked Harry, "are you an American or a Spaniard?"
"Oh, an American—an American always," replied the consul, proudly.
"Then it seems to me, sir, that you should not let the Spaniards select your words for you," said Harry, with some indignation.
"Ah, diplomacy, my son, diplomacy," said the consul, drawing himself up with comical dignity. "You do not understand the need for diplomacy. Why, I was selected by our President for thisdelicate mission, because of my large experience in matters diplomatic. But let us return to your own affairs. I see the general is getting nervous. This is the Bureau of Justice and I shall see that you have an impartial hearing."
"Bureau of Justice," sniffed Bert. "Humph, a pretty one-sided old bureau. I should say it had lost a castor or two."
"Ah, you misjudge General Serano," said Mr. Wyman. "He is an exceedingly fair-minded gentleman."
The consul stepped before the desk of the general and beckoned to the boys to follow him. He spoke in Spanish for a few minutes, and then turned to the boys again.
"The general will examine only one. He thinks that will be sufficient."
"Very well," said Harry, stepping up to the desk. "I will go the general one round."
"My young sir," said Mr. Wyman, with some concern, "let me advise you to treat the court with due deference. This gentleman will act as interpreter, as I understand you do not speak or understand the language."
A man with a heavy black mustache waxed to needle points, and who seemed to wear a perpetual smile, took a position beside Harry, and the examination began.
"What is your name?"
"Harry Hamilton."
"Your age?"
"Fifteen."
"Your nationality?"
"American," answered Harry, "but look here, Mr. Interpreter, I wish you would ask the general what right he has to ask me these questions; why I was interfered with by his soldiers; why I was prodded in the back by their guns; why I was thrust into your old prison; why I am handcuffed, and why I am here; and just tell him firmly, Mr. Interpreter, that I do not propose to answer any more of his questions until he answers a few of mine."
The clerk, who was transcribing the testimony looked up in amazement as the interpreter began to literally and faithfully translate Harry's words. Mr. Wyman looked worried and leaned forward, and said:
"Treat the court with due deference, my young sir, or even my diplomacy may not be powerful enough to save you from the wrath of the general."
"I think I must have a few rights here, Mr. Wyman. I certainly have a right to know with what crime I am charged before I am examined."
"Yes, yes, that is quite true, quite true," replied the consul, advancing to the desk and speaking to the general.
"You are charged with being suspicious characters," said the interpreter, repeating the words of the presiding officer.
"Oh, thank you," said Harry, politely. "You can now tell the judge he may proceed."
The interpreter wisely refrained from repeating Harry's words.
"What are you doing in Cuba?"
"Travelling."
"How many were there in your party?"
"Now, that's such a foolish question, general; that little fat officer there knows there were only two of us. In fact, here we are; you can see for yourself."
"How did you reach Cuba?"
"By steamer."
"Where did you land?"
"On the coast."
"General Serano says your answers are not satisfactory," said the interpreter.
"Surely he wants me to tell him the truth," said Harry, affecting surprise.
"Yes, but he wants all the truth."
"I have answered his questions truthfully and directly. If he wants further information and doesn't know how to ask for it, he cannot expect the prisoner to supply the questions."
"At what point or place on the coast of Cuba did you land?"
"I do not know."
"Does your companion know?"
"He is as densely ignorant on that point as I am."
"What was the name of the steamer?"
"I refuse to answer."
The little fat officer poked one of his soldiers in the ribs in a very unmilitary fashion, and the general looked at the consul with an expression that said, "I told you so." The consul himself looked at Harry in honest amazement.
"Do you refuse to answer on the ground that you might incriminate yourself?"
"No, on the ground that I might incriminate someone else," answered Harry, promptly.
"Who is that someone else?"
"Now, general, that is another one of those foolish questions. If I could answer one I could answer the other."
"Then you refuse again?"
"I do."
"Will you tell the court why you came to Cuba?"
"Because I had to. I assure you we are not travelling for our health, and would have been very glad to have been back in the United Stateslong before we met your little fat officer on the mountain."
"Then why did you come?"
"To be perfectly frank, general, we were out yachting off Martha's Vineyard—I don't suppose you know where that is—when a steamer ran us down during a storm, picked us up, and brought us along to Cuba—that's all."
"And you still persist in refusing to give the name of the steamer?"
"Yes, sir, but with due respect to the court," Harry smiled pleasantly at the consul. He looked upon the examination as a mere farce, and did not now regard their position as at all serious. Although he did not consider the consul a particularly forceful representative of the United States, he felt confident that the Spanish general would not dare to ignore his demands. Could he have forseen the occurrences of the next few days he would not have felt so easy in his mind. The general turned again and addressed the boy.
"According to your testimony," repeated the interpreter, "your presence here on the island is entirely accidental, therefor it is difficult to reconcile this testimony with your refusal to answer the simple questions of the court. In this I wish to say that your consul and representative here concurs with me. I now warn you that you mustanswer the questions that I am about to ask you or take the consequences that your refusal will entail. Personally, I believe that you could, if you would, clear yourself and your companion of all suspicion, and if your explanation of your presence on board this mysterious steamer is true, and I believe it is, your refusal to answer the questions will only further complicate the case against you."
"The general is quite right, my boy," said the consul earnestly. "You can see that he means to give you every opportunity to clear yourself."
"Very well, sir. Suppose you have another try," said Harry, turning to General Serano. "I assure you that I will answer any question that I honorably can."
"Very well: I repeat, what is the name of the steamer that brought you to Cuba?"
"I cannot answer," replied Harry, promptly.
"Remember, I have warned you. At what place on the coast did you land?"
"I have told you, general, that I do not know."
"How far from here in miles?"
"I couldn't even guess that, general."
"How long had you been away from the steamer when my men found you?"
"I cannot answer."
"Do you mean that you are unable to answer, or that you refuse?"
"I refuse."
"Where were you going?"
"To tell the plain truth we were very well lost when your friend there overtook us."
"But you had an objective point that you were trying to reach. What was that?"
"I cannot answer."
"Very well; you may step aside."
After a few words from General Serano, the interpreter turned to Bert, and said:
"Step forward, please. The general wishes to ask you a few questions also."
"All right," answered Bert, stepping promptly to the front.
"You have heard the questions that have been asked your companion?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you have heard those that he refused to answer?"
"Yes, sir."
"Will you answer them?"
"No, sir."
The answer was apparently not unexpected. The general and the consul began an earnest conversation in Spanish. The latter seemed to protest against the decision of General Seranowho, however, was set and determined. Finally, Mr. Wyman turned to the boys.
"I am very sorry," he said, "that for some reason which I cannot conceive you will not satisfactorily answer the questions of the court. I have endeavored to have you paroled in my custody, but the general will not permit it."
"Do you mean that we are to be sent back to jail?" asked Harry, in surprise.
"That is the general's intention. It is not too late for you to answer his questions, though, and I am sure that if you do, you will be promptly released."
"And has the United States Consul no power or authority?"
"He has the power to see that you have a fair and impartial hearing. You have had that, and must blame only yourselves for the position in which you now find yourselves. I shall not desert you, and if you care to make a confidant of me, perhaps I can suggest some way to extricate you from this tangle."
"We will take a little time to think the matter over, Mr. Wyman, thank you. It is not alone ourselves who are involved, or would be involved, if we attempted now to clear ourselves."
General Serano now indicated that he wishedto speak to the prisoners, and the consul fell back.
"Young men," repeated the interpreter, "the conditions in Cuba are such, and particularly in this province, that the utmost vigilance is necessary on the part of the authorities. Your explanation of the suspicious circumstances under which you are detained is entirely unsatisfactory to me. You are found alone in a country infested by men who are in revolt against the Government, travelling with seeming security; you admit having landed on the coast from a steamer whose name you refuse to tell; you are apparently headed for the center of the insurgent uprising. You will not tell where you are going or from whence you come. It is my duty to hold you, and you are therefore remanded to jail pending a further investigation. Perhaps in a few hours, or say to-morrow, you may be willing to answer my questions, in which case you may so inform your consul, and he will take such steps as are necessary to reopen the hearing. I am sorry that you will not be guided by the more mature mind of Mr. Wyman in a matter that may be more serious in its consequences than you imagine."
The general waved his hand, and the fat officer, with a malignant smile of triumph marshalled his men and approached Harry and Bert withthe muzzles of their guns once more extended toward them. A sharp word from General Serano caused them to lower their guns and assume a less dictatorial manner toward the prisoners.
Once more the boys were conducted to the gloomy white jail and the doors of their prison room closed upon them.
Two men entered the room shortly after the door had closed on the boys, and removed the handcuffs. They passed out in the same silent manner, and the prisoners were left alone again. There was no light in the room, but the moonbeams entered through the barred windows, and cast two streaks of light across the floor that was sufficient to enable the boys to see almost as well as by daylight. They each sat down dejectedly upon a bed and for a long time neither uttered a word. Harry was trying to think out the true meaning of their position, which began to assume a more serious phase to him. There was no element of play in it, now.
He reviewed his recent examination by General Serano, and wished he had not assumed quite so nonchalant an air, although he felt that he could not have answered the questions which would perhaps involve the safety of Captain Dynamite. They were unquestionably in a disagreeable situation. He realized that if he were to tell the entire truth they would be immediately released, but the truth would at once set the Spaniards on the heels of O'Connor, and Harrycould not forget the personal risk the man had taken to save their lives after he had run them down, nor the kindness with which they, as unbidden guests on his ship, had been treated. To betray his confidence would be a dastardly act, for, even if he could have doubted the words of O'Connor, the actions of the commander of the gunboat were sufficient to indicate that it would go hard with the intrepid skipper of theMariellaif he should fall into the hands of the Spaniards.
Mason and Washington were still to be counted on. He felt sure that they would continue on their way to O'Connor and that he would make some move to effect their rescue. There was one strong objection to waiting for O'Connor. Whatever plan he might adopt for their relief must necessarily be attended by violence, for in no other way could he approach their captors, except it be by strategy, and there seemed to be no chance of escape in that way.
He feared for O'Connor's sake to take the consul into their confidence, except as a last resort. While he had the utmost respect for the man's integrity he feared the influence of General Serano. At all events there was nothing that could be done to-night. He turned to Bert who was sitting in an equally dejected frame of mind on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands.
"Let's turn in, Bert, old man. Things may be brighter in the morning."
"I don't see much hope. Do you think Captain Dynamite would care if we told that Spanish gentleman the whole truth as to how we came here?"
"No, I don't," replied Harry, indignantly. "If O'Connor could advise us I know the man well enough to believe that the first thing he would tell us to do would be to make a clean breast of everything. But I would hate to say what I should think of myself, or of you, if either of us did such a thing. Why man, you know as well as I do that it would set the Spaniards after him like a pack of hounds on the trail. And you know there is a price on his head and a big one, too. Don't let any more such bubbles get into your think tank or you and I will have to part company."
"You are right, Hal," said Bert, sheepishly. "I didn't think of the danger to him."
"Well, then, let's go to bed."
The boys threw off only their outer clothing and lay down on the hard husk mattresses and were soon fast asleep notwithstanding the uncertainty and danger of their predicament.
The place was in almost total darkness when Harry awakened suddenly and sat bolt uprightin bed. He listened for a moment intently, as if for the repetition of the sound that had awakened him.
"What was it, I wonder. Something must have wakened me."
He sat motionless for a long time, but not a sound broke the stillness of the night.
"I know I heard something," he said to himself as he dropped back on the bed again. He could not sleep, however, for the sense that he had been awakened by a strange sound, and the mental effort that he had made to catch a repetition of it, had completely aroused him. He lay on his back looking up into the darkness when he heard a sound like a smothered sigh.
"Bert," he whispered, as he sprang up and sat on the edge of his bed, "was that you?"
"What's that? What's the matter, old man?" asked Bert, aroused from his sleep.
"Was that you?"
"Was what me—what's the matter with you, Hal?"
"Have you been awake?"
"No, not until you called me."
"Then you didn't sigh?"
"Not unless it was in my sleep."
"This wasn't a sleepy sigh."
"Say, Hal, what is the matter with you? You make me feel creepy."
"I heard a sigh."
Bert groped his way over to Harry's bed and sat down beside him.
"Say, old man, you're not asleep, are you?"
"No; Listen! There it is again."
The boys drew closer together and put out their hands until they touched one another. The sound they heard seemed to come from nowhere in particular.
"What do you think it is, Hal?"
"I don't know. Wait until we hear it again."
By this time their eyes had become accustomed to the darkness of the room, and aided by the star-lighted sky, they could see into every corner. There was no one in the room. Somewhat reassured they waited. The next time the sound was an unmistakable sob, and it seemed to be wafted through the barred windows on the still night air.
"I know what it is," said Harry, eagerly jumping from the bed and pulling the table under the window. "It's some one in the cell next to ours. Let's try to talk to him."
"He's probably a Spaniard or a Cuban, and will not be able to understand you."
"I'm going to try, anyway. Misery loves company, you know."
Harry mounted the table and put his face between the bars.
"Hist," he said.
A low moaning cry answered him.
"Bert, it's a woman," said Harry, turning in amazement to his companion, who now mounted the table beside him.
"How do you know?"
"Couldn't you hear? It was a woman's voice."
"Hist," said Harry, again, as loudly as he dared. "Who are you? Can we help you in any way?"
He hardly expected a reply for he felt, as did Bert, that they would not find any other English-speaking prisoners confined there. His surprise was great therefore, when a low voice, with just a suspicion of soft Spanish accent, asked:
"Who are you?"
"We are two American boys who would like to assist you if we can."
"Are you prisoners also?"
"We are."
"Then I fear you can be of little assistance to me, but I thank you very much for your interest. What have they shut you up for; are you friends of the insurgents?"
"We have one very good friend among them, but until we met him we did not know an insurgent from a Spanish regular. May I ask what offense you have committed against the laws of this fussy country?"
"I am a Cuban," said the soft voice, with a little gasping sob.
"Is that a crime?"
"Yes; to be a true Cuban."
"O, I see. You are what they call a sympathizer."
"Yes."
"How long have you been here?"
"I have lost count of the days and nights. I think a week."
"Have they ill-treated you?"
"Not yet, but they threaten to if I do not give them the information they seek, to-morrow."
"What do they want to know that you can tell them?"
"Much, very much, about the insurgent arms."
"And you will tell them to-morrow?"
"Not to-morrow—not ever."
The voice was low and full of tears, but there was a ring of determination that told of a strong heart despite her woman's weakness.
"Hooray," whispered Bert. "Good for you."
"And have you no friends who can aid you?"
"Yes, one, but he may even now be dead or dying in a Spanish dungeon. It is for him I weep, not for myself. There is a price upon his head."
"What," said the boys in a breath.
"Is he Captain Dynamite of theMariella?" asked Harry, excitedly.
"He is sometimes called so. His name is Michael O'Connor. What do you know of him?"
The woman's voice trembled with excitement.
"Hoop la," whispered Harry, hardly able to refrain from shouting. "Captain Dynamite is not in any dungeon cell, Miss Juanita, and if I am not mistaken he is already devising some plan with Gomez to effect your rescue."
"Who are you," whispered the girl in amazement, "who know O'Connor and my name so well?"
"I told you, Miss Juanita, that we had one friend among the Cubans; that is Captain Dynamite. We made the last trip with him on theMariella, though not willingly. We'll tell you that story some other time when you are well out of this."
"He was well?" nervously whispered the girl.
"Yes, until he got the dispatch from Gomez telling him that you had been captured. Then he was off to Cubitas like a shot in the middle of the night. We were trying to join him when they nabbed us."
"But they have not learned from you where he is?"
"Miss Juanita, you wrong us. We do not betray our friends."
"Oh, and it is because you will not betray him that you are here. I kiss your hands."
"Permit us to kiss yours—figuratively—Miss Juanita," said Harry, gallantly, while Bert gulped down a lump in his throat when he thought of his suggestion to tell the Spanish general the truth.
"But I wouldn't have done it, Hal, old man," he said, involuntarily.
"Wouldn't have done what?"
"Not when it came right down to bed rock."
"What are you talking about, Bert?"
"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking."
"Well, don't think so loud unless you are going to take me into your confidence. Any chance of getting out of that dungeon cell of yours, Miss Juanita?"
"None."
At this moment they heard the sound of regular footsteps outside.
"'Sh," whispered the voice. "It is the guard. Go away from the window."
The boys jumped down from the table, and as they did so, Bert stumbled and fell heavily against the wall. When he recovered his balance they heard a strange grinding sound like a heavy door creaking on rusty hinges. The boys listened in wonder.
"Gee, but this is a creepy old place," said Bert, as the noise continued. "Now, what do you suppose that is?"
"It sounds as if it came from the wall there. Let's investigate."
They moved nervously over to the stone wall that separated their prison room from that of Miss Juanita. The noise seemed nearer and more distinct, but they could see nothing that might cause it. Still the strange sound continued. In the semi-darkness they watched in wonderment the blank face of the wall from which the sound seemed to proceed. Suddenly Harry seized Bert by the arm.
"Look!" he whispered in a tense voice. He pointed to a large stone in about the centre of the wall. "Doesn't it move?"
The stone to which Harry referred was larger than any other, being three feet square, and placed about waist-high from the floor. Bert watched intently. It seemed to him that he could see a slight trembling movement and then an almost imperceptible jump as the hand of an electric clock advances with a jerk. The face of the stone, too, seemed to be out of line with the others.
They advanced closer, and Harry passed his hand cautiously under the stone. Unquestionably it had moved, either by accident or design. The upper edge projected into the room beyond the line of the wall at least an inch and the lower edge receded in the same way. As Harry's handrested on the stone he felt it tremble and jump and the upper edge advanced another quarter of an inch into the room.
"That stone is revolving on a horizontal axis," said Harry, confidently, after his inspection. "Now the question is: How and why?"
"It seems uncomfortably like the times of the inquisition," said Bert, shuddering.
"Oh, pshaw, don't you see that wall separates us from the cell of Miss Juanita, and the Spaniards would have nothing to do with opening this passage?"
"Do you think she is doing it, then?"
"No, for had she known of the stone she would have mentioned it when I asked her if there was any chance of escape from her prison. It has come about through an accident, I feel sure, but how? Of course there must be some secret spring that works it, but where is it and how and by whom has it been operated?"
"Hal, I believe I did it," whispered Bert, excitedly.
"What on earth do you mean?"
"You know when I jumped down from the table I fell against the wall. It was immediately after that we heard the creaking."
"Thunder, you are right. You must have touched the spring."
"I think so. Let's look for it."
The boys carefully examined the wall near the place where Bert had stumbled, and to the left of the revolving stone they found a small, diamond-shaped stone that to the casual observer would appear to have been set in the wall to fill in the broken corner of one of the larger stones. Upon close inspection they found that it was set loosely in the wall without mortar. They dared not touch it for fear it might stop the invisible machinery that it had evidently set in motion.
Slowly the stone continued its unsteady revolution, until at the end of about five minutes the creaking stopped, there was a clicking sound as if a cog had settled into place, and all movement ceased. The big slab, which was six inches thick, had now obtained a horizontal position, leaving an opening above and below into the next room, or cell. The axis upon which the stone revolved was a little above the centre, so that the lower opening was nearly eighteen inches high.
The boys peered through into the darkness of the next cell.
"Miss Juanita," called Harry, softly. "May we come in? Perhaps this scheme of opening walls may continue through to the outside world."
"Who is there?" came a frightened voice from the farthest corner of the room.
"It's the American boys who were talking with you at the window," answered Harry, reassuringly. "We are friends. Do not fear."
"Oh," came in a gasp of relief. "I thought they were about to inflict some new horror upon me. What have you done?"
"We do not quite know ourselves. In some way we touched a secret spring that rolled over this stone and formed a passage between these two cells. It is just possible that there may be another one. May we come in and look?"
"Yes, yes, come in. Oh, perhaps it is true—perhaps we shall be able to escape from this horrible place."
"Do not hope for too much. It was only a chance thought of mine. However, we better see."
The boys climbed through the opening without difficulty and found themselves in a room exactly similar to the one they had left, except that it was furnished a little more comfortably for a woman.
The moon had set, but they were now so used tothe darkness that with the little starlight that penetrated through the barred windows they were able to see quite well. They went at once to the wall directly opposite and began an eager search for a diamond-shaped stone. There was none, nor was there any big slab-like stone resembling the revolving one in the wall through which they had just passed. They tried the other two walls, but also without avail. It was evident that only these two cells were connected.
"Well, Miss Juanita," said Harry, when they had assured themselves that there was no other opening, "we have only succeeded in widening our prisons. There is no other means of exit but the doors. I am very sorry to have raised your expectations."
The girl, who had followed them eagerly from place to place as they examined the walls, held out her hands in protest at Harry's words.
"Oh, let me thank you for the ray of happiness you have brought me," she said, quickly.
"I can't think that we have in any way lightened your burden, except that you may count on us to do anything in our power to help you, but I fear that is very little."
"Ah, but you brought me news of him and—and the knowledge of the near presence of friends is cheering."
"Yes, Miss Juanita, and I think you can bank on hearing more news from him in the very near future."
"I hope so for—for all our sakes."
"Now that we are literally up against a stone wall, I think we better climb back into our own cell before the guard takes it into his head to look around. Cheer up, Miss Juanita, Captain Dynamite will be on the march before long, I'll warrant you. Good night."
"Good-night, my friends."
"Now I wonder how the old stone works backwards?" said Harry, when they had returned to their own room.
"Press the button and the stone will do the rest," said Bert, with a grim attempt at humor. He pressed the diamond-shaped stone as he spoke, but there was no answering creak, nor did the slab move.
"It is not likely that the same spring does double duty. We will have to hunt up the other," said Harry. "Now, by all the laws of symmetry there should be another similar stone on the other side of the slab—and here it is."
He pushed on this as he spoke, and at once the grinding sound began again and the stone slowly settled back into place.
"Well, our discovery of the Don's secret inquisitorial passage does not appear to have done us much good," said Bert, as they stretched themselves out on their beds again.
"I'm not so sure of that," replied Harry, thoughtfully. "I think I see a way by which at least one of us three can benefit by it."
"How?"
"Wait until I get it all thought out. In the meantime I am going to get a little more sleep."
They did not return to their own cell any too soon, for they had no more than turned over for their second nap when a light flashed in their eyes and they sat up to find their silent jailor had opened the door noiselessly and was inspecting the room with the aid of a large lantern. He nodded his head in a satisfied way and passed out again.
"Say, Hal, old man, this sort of thing is getting on my nerves," said Bert, when the man had gone.
"I wouldn't mind a few streaks of daylight myself, Bert."
Tired as they were, the boys' nerves were so worked upon that they were unable to go to sleep again and tossed on their cots until the gray dawn began to show through the windows. They lay in a sort of lethargy watching the sky grow brighter and brighter until they were aroused to action by the loud voices of men and the clanking of guns in the jail yard below.
"Holloa, I wonder what's up now," said Harry, jumping up and climbing on the table to peer out.
The yard was still full of dark shadows and the forms of men were not fully distinguishable, but Harry could make out a group of armed soldiers standing at ease, chatting and smoking cigarettes near one of the gray walls. An officer, apart from his men, strutted pompously up and down the yard.
"I guess they must be going to drill," said Bert, who had climbed up beside Harry.
"Pretty early for drill."
"Time doesn't seem to cut any figure in this country. I've been doing something night and day ever since we struck the place. I should like to get home to a quiet life again."
Another officer entered the yard and approached the man who paced to and fro. He handed him a paper which the other read, nodded as if in assent, and turning to the men gave an order in a sharp voice. The soldiers fell into a file of threes and at another word of command marched quickly into the jail, the officer following them, leisurely rolling a cigarette.
In another moment the boys heard the tramp of feet at the lower end of the corridor outside of their cell.
"Are they coming for us, do you think, Hal?" asked Bert, in a tremulous voice.
The footsteps came nearer and nearer. Now they were just outside the door and the boys involuntarily caught their breath. They passed on without stopping and they heard them die away down the passage. Again there was silence and then a sound as if a heavy iron door had been closed with a bang. This was followed again by the regular tramp of the soldiers' feet as they returned along the corridor. They passed the door of the boys' cell and again the sound died away.
Harry turned again to the window. The soldiers filed rapidly into the yard, but this time there was another in their ranks. A man in his shirt sleeves with his hands bound behind his back marched with head erect between the two middle ranks. He was a tall, muscular man, broad of shoulder and lithe of limb. His face was pale, but the expression was calm and determined. His step was firm and the soldiers at his back found no need to urge him on. They marched straight to the wall of the yard that faced the jail, and at a command from the officer, the soldiers parted, leaving the man standing with his back to the wall and facing his captors.
As the soldiers fell back they formed ranks of six on either side of the prisoner, the butts of theirrifles resting on the ground. Down this narrow human alley the commander strode until he stood face to face with the man against the wall. He spoke to him in Spanish and the prisoner replied briefly, at the same time lifting his head proudly and looking his questioner firmly in the eye. Although the boys could understand nothing that was said, it was easy to tell that the officer had made some offer which the other proudly rejected. The boys looked on with a feeling that they were about to witness a tragedy, but some strange fascination prevented them from turning away.
The commander turned to the jail and lifted his hand as a signal. A friar in long solemn robes walked slowly down between the ranks of soldiers, his eyes fixed on the ground. As he reached the prisoner, he stopped in front of him and raised his head. In his thin, worn face there was an expression of gentle sorrow. He spoke a few words and raised a cross before the face of the other, who leaned eagerly forward and kissed it. The friar bowed his head and fell back a few paces. In a low voice he repeated what was apparently a prayer, and then once more holding the cross for a moment before the eyes of the doomed man, he turned and walked slowly back to the jail, his lips still moving in prayer.
A man stepped out of the ranks and tied a silkhandkerchief over the eyes of the prisoner. The boys, watching breathlessly through the bars of the window, were pale with the horror of the scene. They now understood the tragedy that was about to be enacted, but they could not shake off the desire to look.
The soldier moved back into the ranks, there was another sharp command and the lines wheeled and marched in a single rank of twelve back to the jail wall. They were now directly under the boys and out of their line of vision. All they could see was the man with the bound hands and bandaged eyes standing calmly facing them.
There was another quick command, followed instantly by a rattle of arms.
The boys cast off the spell that had held them, and with a cry of horror jumped down from the table and throwing themselves on the beds placed their hands over their ears.
Another command in a low tone, and the discharge of twelve guns as one ended it.
"I hope she did not see," said Harry, raising his white face.
He had scarcely uttered the words, when the wild shriek of a woman rang out on the morning air.
A loud, coarse laugh from the jail yard followed the pitiful cry and Harry clenched his hand in futile anger.
It was sometime before the boys recovered from the unpleasant effects of the scene they had witnessed in the jail yard.
"I wonder who he was?" said Bert, after a long silence.
"Probably an insurgent. But whoever he was, he was a brave man."
The door of their cell quietly opened at this moment and a man brought food and set it on the table. The boys, who had not eaten anything for many hours, disposed of the porridge and some mysterious sort of meat stew with relish. They had scarcely finished their meal when the cell door opened again and the gentleman with the genial smile, who had acted as interpreter, appeared.
"Good morning," he said, cheerily. "Did you sleep well?"
"Very well, thank you," replied Harry, wondering what the purpose of the man's visit might be.
"Thought I would drop in and see if there was any message you would like to send to the general or to Consul Wyman."
"You mean that you were sent to see if we were ready to talk yet, don't you?"
"Just a different way of putting it."
"Well, you may tell General What-You-May-Call-Him that we have nothing more to say than we said yesterday; and you may also inform him that our situation is known to our friends by this time, and that he will be held to a strict accounting by Uncle Sam for this outrage upon two American citizens."
"You have communicated with your friends—how?"
The genial smile on the man's face faded into a look of surprise and anxiety. He glanced quickly around the room to see if there was any means by which they could have communicated with the outside world.
"That is another one of those questions that we claim the privilege of refusing to answer."
"I will deliver your message, but I warn you that it will not be well for you to arouse the anger of General Serano. He fears no one."
"It is entirely up to the general whether he gets angry or not. I really do not see any necessity for it."
"Will you send any message to Consul Wyman?"
"No—yes, come to think of it, I should liketo speak to Mr. Wyman. Will you ask him if it will be too much trouble for him to see us here?"
"General Serano will be pleased to furnish you with an escort to the consul's. The air will do you good this morning."
"When I go to the American consul I shall go without an escort, as you call it—guard I think would be more like it."
The man shrugged his shoulders.
"I will send your message to the consul," he said.
"What do you want of the consul, Hal?" asked Bert, when the man had gone.
"He is a part of my secret-passage plot, but I do not know whether he will be game or not."
Mr. Wyman did not keep them waiting long. He bustled in behind the turnkey and greeted them heartily.
"Good morning, boys," he said. "I understand you want to see me. I hope you have changed your minds and will now sensibly answer the general's questions and set yourselves at liberty."
"No, Mr. Wyman, we will never do that—at least not until we know that the one we might injure by so doing is quite safe. We did think, however, sir, that we would like to take you into our confidence."
"The best thing you can do, boys. I may be able to help you out of your trouble; at least, I can act with more intelligence in your interests."
"Yes, sir, so we thought," answered Harry meekly, glancing at Bert, who sat open mouthed, utterly in ignorance of Harry's plans. "Do you think there is any chance of our being disturbed?" he continued, looking at the door.
"None whatever. The man with the key will not open the door until I rap three times."
"Very well, sir, if you will take that chair I shall be quite comfortable here on the bed."
The consul drew his chair up close to Harry and sat down. Bert also seated himself on the bed. Beginning with the wreck of their sail boat, Harry then told Mr. Wyman in sequence the events that had led up to their present incarceration in a Spanish jail in Cuba.
"Now, sir," he said, as he concluded, "you can understand why we cannot tell anything that will in any way bring harm to Captain Dynamite."
"Yes, yes," said the consul, who had been deeply interested in the boy's story. "A marvelous man, and there are many more like him in the service of Cuba. I believe they will win. I—I hope they will win."
Mr. Wyman lowered his voice and looked around the room as if to see whether there wasanyone to overhear him. Harry looked at him in surprise.
"I thought you were a Spanish sympathizer, Mr. Wyman," he said.
"Diplomacy, my boy, only diplomacy."
"I am very glad to hear you say so, sir; you may fall in with my plan quicker."
"What plan?" asked the consul, suspiciously.
"I will tell you presently, but I have not finished my story yet. You see that wall?" Harry pointed to the wall between their cell and the one occupied by Miss Juanita. The consul nodded. "Behind that wall is a young woman—a Cuban sympathizer—who is awaiting torture, perhaps death, at the hands of her captors, because she will not betray the cause. And that young woman is Miss Juanita, the sweetheart of Captain Dynamite."
"How do you know this, boys?" asked Mr. Wyman, springing to his feet in excitement.
"Do you see that big slab in the wall?"
"Yes."
"That closes a secret passage between this room and hers. Last night we accidentally touched the spring that rolls back the stone, and we talked to her. If you can depend upon our not being disturbed, I will open it now and you can see for yourself."
"I will answer for the man with the key. He now and then gets a little present from me. I find it convenient to be in touch with all hands. Diplomacy, my boy, diplomacy."
Harry stepped to the wall and pressed the diamond-shaped stone. The groaning and creaking of the rusty mechanism of the revolving stone began and in five minutes the passage was open. Harry peered through and started back with a cry.
The young woman lay face downward on the stone floor of her cell.
"Miss Juanita," called Harry, softly. "What is the matter? Get up. It is your friends again."
She did not stir.
"She may be dead," said Harry, in fear, as he climbed through the passage. He kneeled down beside her and turned her limp body over so that he could see her face. "No, she still breathes."
"Perhaps she has fainted," said Mr. Wyman from the other side of the passage. "Take some water from that pitcher there and bathe her face."
Harry did as directed and soon a faint sigh escaped from her pallid lips, and in a moment more she opened her eyes and looked up, dazed and frightened.
"Do not be afraid, Miss Juanita," said Harry, nervously. "It is the American boys again. What has happened?"
"I think I fainted," she said, weakly. "Oh, it's all so terrible."
Painfully she dragged herself to her feet and sank into a chair that Harry placed for her.
"What is so terrible?" he asked.
"First the shooting in the jail yard this morning. Did you see it?" Harry nodded his head. "I cried out. I tried not to, but the horror was too great. They laughed. They had wrung from me the first sign of womanly weakness. Then they came to me and repeated their demands for information. But I was strong again and they left me with curses. To-morrow I shall stand where he did in the jail yard. I must have fainted when they left me. But do not mind. It is soon over. Tell him when you see him that I died bravely for—for him and the cause."
The woman buried her face in her hands and sobbed softly.
"Do you mean, Miss," asked Mr. Wyman anxiously, through the opening, "that they told you that to-morrow—that to-morrow——" He could not finish the sentence, but she understood him and nodded her head.
"Yes—to-morrow—at dawn."
Harry stooped down and whispered:
"Do not fear, Miss Juanita, it will not be at dawn to-morrow, nor any other day. But muchwill depend upon yourself, so dry your eyes, Miss, and be ready to do your part when the time comes."
The woman looked up at him wonderingly.
"Have you heard from him?" she asked.
"Not yet, but you will if you will only arouse yourself a bit and be ready to do as I tell you when I come back."
Harry turned from her quickly and hastily climbing through the passage, touched the spring that closed it.
"Now, Mr. Wyman," he said, as the stone rolled into place. "You have seen and heard."
"What an outrage—what a horrible outrage," murmured the consul, gazing blankly ahead of him.
"Will you listen to my plan now, Mr. Wyman?" said Harry.
"Yes, yes," replied the consul, eagerly. "What is it?"
Harry drew him down on the bed beside him and in a whisper that even Bert could not hear, unfolded the scheme that had come suddenly into his head in nebulous shape when they had discovered the secret passage.
"But think of the sacrifice," said the consul in an uncertain tone when Harry had concluded.
"Never mind that, sir—that is for me to consider, and I have done so. I am willing to take the chance."
"But if you come to my house I shall be at once connected with the escape and that would bring my office into disrepute. I do not care for myself, but the United States must not be brought into the case."
"But if I never reach your house you cannot in any way be responsible. Listen—all you have to do is to tell General What's-His-Name that I have promised you to tell the whole truth in regard to our landing, but that I insist that I shall be paroled and permitted to visit you alone and without guard. Bert will remain as hostage, so that there can be no suspicion."
"Say, Hal," said Bert, nervously, "you are not going to leave me here alone?"
"Not for long, old man. What do you say, Mr. Wyman? Think how you would feel if these men carried out their threat, and they are quite capable of it."
"I'll do my best, my boy. Your risk is the greater, but it is a noble act."
Mr. Wyman rose and shook Harry's hand vigorously. He rapped three times on the door and as the jailer opened it he turned again and said: "You will hear from me shortly, when I have laid your case before General Serano."
"Say, Hal," said Bert, as soon as the door closed, "what is this plan of yours, and why am I kept in the dark like an outsider?"
"Because I want to take all the responsibility and do not want to have you mixed up in it if it should fail."
"But I am willing to take equal chances with you, old man. It isn't fair."
"Oh, yes, it is. You will understand later."
Bert moped for a time in resentment, but as Harry refused to be affected by his mood, he soon cheered up and determined to watch for developments that might enlighten him as to the plot that Harry and the consul were hatching. But nothing developed. A guard brought in their dinner and it was nearly nightfall before their door opened again and the smiling interpreter entered.
"So you have thought better of it, after all, young gentlemen?" he said.
"I do not know whether it is better or worse, but we have thought differently, if that's what you mean," answered Harry.
"I mean that you have decided to tell the general what he wants to know."
"No, I have decided to tell Consul Wyman."
"Yes, but he will tell the general."
"That will be his concern."
"Very well. Here is a pass from General Serano through the guards. When you areready to go, rap three times on the door and it will be opened. Only one of you is to leave this place; the pass is for only one. Should both of you attempt to use it you would be at once arrested. I simply warn you."
"Thank you. We have no intention of trying to escape. We enjoy your hospitality too much and the longer we board with you the longer the score you will have to settle with Uncle Sam."
Harry took the pass from the man, who then left the cell.
"Now to work, Bert," said Harry, eagerly, as the door closed. "Listen! When it is dark I am going through the passage. You must close it at once, so that in case any one should come in it will not be discovered."
"But suppose the jailor should come in; how can I account for your absence?"
"You cannot understand him nor he you, and he would probably rush off to make a report of my escape. Before his return I will be back. But that will not be very likely to happen. When I have been in the other cell ten minutes, open the passage again, and when I come through do not speak, no matter what you may see or hear. Then close the passage at once. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"And after I have left this room see to it that the door is safely closed again, and then once more open the passage."
"What for?"
"Never mind that now. Do you know what you are to do?"
"Yes; close and open the passage twice and say nothing."
"That's it."
They did not have to wait long for darkness. Night was now falling rapidly. They sat in silence as the dark shadows began to fill the room. Harry was in a serious, thoughtful mood and talked but little. Finally, when the room became so dark that they could not see one another's faces, he rose.
"It is time now, Bert," he whispered. "Remember your part."
He stepped to the wall and groping around until he found the spring, pressed it and the stone began to revolve. When the passage was fully open, he peered through into the darkness of the other cell, and whispered:
"Miss Juanita, do not be afraid; it is the American boys. Are you there?"
"Yes," came a soft answer.
Harry climbed through the passage and Bert promptly touched the spring that closed it. Theheavy stone moved slowly back into place and Bert was alone.
He had no watch, so he counted the seconds. The ten minutes seemed an hour to him. At last they passed and he opened the passage again. For some reason he expected to see Harry and the young woman climb through, but only the form of the boy appeared in the gloom. He waited a moment to be sure that the girl did not follow, and then closed the passage. As the stone settled into place, the form moved quickly to the door and rapped three times. Almost instantly it swung open and the jailor with his lantern stood without. As the boy's form glided silently out past the stolid turnkey, Bert started back and with difficulty suppressed a cry of amazement. For a moment the light of the lantern had fallen on the face of the form in the doorway.