[image]"THE REPORT RANG OUT AND I REALIZED THAT I WAS UNHURT."—Page158.So strong had been my conviction of safety that I had passed through the trying ordeal without even a change of colour, so Mayhew told me afterwards; and was certainly in complete command of my nerves as I entered upon the second stage of the grim drama.I saw my way as clearly as though written instructions were actually in my hands. He was a coward. Brave enough for the ordinary routine matters of life and of his profession as a soldier, he yet lacked the courage to face the certain death that was waiting for him in the barrel of the pistol lying to my hand; and throughout the whole scene he had been oppressed and overborne by the fear of what such a minute as this must mean for him. It was through his cowardice, his readiness to sacrifice honour for life, that I was to win my way to the knowledge I needed and achieve my purpose.I began the task with studied cruelty. I bent on him such a look of stern hate and menace as I could assume, and dallied deliberately with his terror before I even laid finger on the pistol stock. Then I smiled as in grim triumph, and picking up the pistol looked carefully at it, and from it across the space between us to him.His fight for strength was literally repulsive to witness. Terror possessed him so completely that both nerves and muscles refused to obey the direction of the brain, and the pause I made proved the breaking point in his endurance."I can't stand; give me a chair," he gasped, piteously."Stand back, gentlemen, if you please," I thundered, when his seconds were going to him; and the sound of my voice increased his already crushing fear, so that he swayed and fell forward on the table, like a man collapsed in drink, his arms extended and his hands clenched in a veritable agony of despair and terror.I allowed a full thirty seconds to pass in a silence that must have been awesome for him, and then let drop the first hint of hope."It is my right to fire when I please. I have not said I shall exercise it to-night."At that I saw the strength begin to move in him again. His fingers relaxed, he drew his arms back and then gradually his body, and at length raised himself slowly and looked at me—question, doubt, fright, appeal, hope, all struggling for expression—a look that, had I been as full of rage and yearning for revenge as he had been and as he believed me to be, would have sufficed to stay my finger on the trigger or have driven me to fire in the air. I have never seen such haggard misery.There was another pause, in which I looked at him, my face set apparently upon the execution of an implacable resolve to kill him. When it had had its effect and I saw the grey shades of renewed despair falling upon him, I said—"Gentlemen, I will ask you to withdraw a while. It may be that a way can be found out of this business which may lead to my waiving or indefinitely postponing my right. If Colonel Livenza is willing, I will speak with him privately."A hurried whispered conference between him and his seconds followed, and then we two were left alone.CHAPTER XIVA COWARD'S STORYAfter a very short pause Livenza's very shame at his own panic began to give him a sort of firmness of bravado. The worst about him had been made clear; he had shown that he was afraid and was willing to purchase his life; and it was a matter in which he must make the best terms he could. The pressure of imminent death once removed, he could breathe again. In the future he was to be my creature, and he recognised it. That was how I read the sullen, scowling look he gave me as he drew himself up slowly and crossed his arms."You can sit down if you wish," I said, curtly, in the tone of a master, to make him feel my authority and to recall to him his former craven appeal."I have no wish: I can stand.""You know your life is forfeit," and I glanced at the pistol in my hand, "and that I have the right to send the bullet crashing into your brain, if I please?"He winced, and the light of fear glanced again in his eyes. I couldn't have shot him in cold blood, of course, and the thrust was a cruel one. But I knew that he could have shot me under the circumstances, and that he would read my disposition by his own. He was a brute, and must be treated as a brute."If you mean to shoot me, do it," he cried."I am willing to let you purchase your life, but the terms will be heavy.""I am in your power and must pay them," he answered, sullenly, but with unmistakable relief."First, then, understand this: What has passed here to-night shall never be breathed by either my friends or myself. So far as we are concerned your reputation outside shall stand just where it did when you entered the room. On that I give you my word of honour—if you deal straightly with me. A sign of treachery or a single lie from you, and the truth shall be told.""I agree to that, of course.""Moreover, my right to fire this shot is merely postponed, not waived. You will put down in writing what will justify me should your treachery ever make it necessary for me to shoot you.""I will do that." He was beginning to speak fluently and readily now."You will now answer my questions. Are you in Sebastian Quesada's pay or in his power?""In his power. He concocted a false charge against me some time ago, confronted me with the proofs, and threatened to have me prosecuted. I dare not face the charge, and from that moment he has used me for various tasks.""Amongst them this business of the young King's abduction?"He started violently as I made this rather bold shot."What do you know?""Everything—except the details." The reply was perhaps a little exaggeration; but I was guessing everything very fast."If he knows I have spoken of it to you, he will ruin me. I might as well be dead.""He will never know, unless you are fool enough to tell him. He sent you to Senorita Castelar's house this afternoon?""Yes. He said you would be there." He was sufficiently recovered now for his private feelings to reassert themselves somewhat, and there was a gleam of the old hate of me in his eyes as he gave the answer which let in such a flood of additional light upon my knowledge of Quesada's treachery. I made another long shot."He has promised to help your suit with the senorita?""You are the devil. You do know everything, indeed," he cried. "Who are you?""You are to answer, not question," I returned, sternly. It was now as clear as the sun at noonday that Quesada had planned this quarrel of ours, sending Livenza to catch me with Sarita, with the certain assurance that his jealousy would lead to a duel in which one of us would be certain either to fall or to be laid by during the completion of his plans. He stood to gain almost equally by the death of either. "You took with you some final instructions about this plot; what were they?" I asked, after a moment's pause.For the first time he hesitated, and I saw the beads of sweat standing thick on his forehead, as he looked at me, trembling like a blade of grass."You are asking me for more than my life," he murmured, his very teeth chattering in his irresolution."Answer me, or——" I thundered, lifting the pistol a few inches."You will never breathe a word of this?" he implored."Answer me," I cried again, with implacable sternness."He gave me the privately agreed upon route of His Majesty's drive for to-morrow afternoon." He spoke in a voice low and hoarse, and the sentence was broken by three or four pauses, as if the effort to utter it was almost beyond his strength."Give it me," I said, instantly."I—I dare not," he answered, his voice no louder than a whisper."Give it me," I repeated."I—I can tell it you," he said, after a long pause."Give it me," I cried, sternly. "I shall not ask again."He plunged a trembling hand into an inner pocket, and without withdrawing it gave me a glance of piteous entreaty."Anything but this!" he pleaded. "God have mercy on me; anything but this, senor, I beg you. I was to have destroyed it.""As you will. Then our conference fails. I will call in our seconds and——"But he did not let me finish, for with a groan of despair he brought the paper out and laid it on the table.I picked it up, and a glance showed me what a prize it was. The writing was Quesada's, and it gave the route of the drive and actually suggested the place where the abduction could be made—a spot on the road to Buenavista, close to where the bridge crossed the Manzanares on the way to Aravaca, and specified the time, five o'clock; adding the significant note—"Only one aide in carriage, no escort; coachman and footman."When I had read it he held out his hand for it, dreaming apparently that I should return it; and when I put it in my pocket he threw up his hands with a deep sigh of despair."Why was to-morrow chosen instead of the following day?""I don't know. There have been several changes."I stopped to think. I had indeed made a splendid haul, and there was little else Livenza was likely to be able to tell me. There was one question I had yet to answer; but it was certain that he would not know any more than I. What was Sebastian's object in all this? I had thought of the probable solution when I was with Sarita—that he was playing for his own hand and meant to get rid of the young King and to crush the Carlists by one and the same stroke; and to pit myself against a man shrewd enough to conceive such a policy and daring enough to put it to the actual test, seemed like madness. But I had made up my mind to attempt it; and the document I now had in my pocket would be a powerful weapon if only I could see the means to use it shrewdly.As I stood a minute or two revolving these matters, Livenza was staring at me with the fascinated gaze with which a hunted animal will watch the beast of prey that threatens its life, and at length said—"Is there anything more. I am not well, senor.""No, you have saved your life; but you will remain close in your rooms until I send you word. To all but Sebastian Quesada you will be ill in bed. Any message he sends you, you will immediately forward to me; and he must not know that you are not acting just as usual. I will find someone who will nurse you day and night and watch you.""I cannot serve both you and Sebastian Quesada. I cannot do it. I must have either your protection or his," he cried, feebly."You will have mine," I answered, in a tone I might have used had I been the master of countless legions. "Serve me in this matter, and you will have your reward. Fail me, and I swear I will take your life."Without giving him time to answer, I called in the other men, and found that Captain Pescada had gone away, leaving many apologies. I apologised for having kept the others waiting."Colonel Livenza is ill, gentlemen," I added. "He has given me proofs of his desire to make ample amends for the insult of this evening, offered under what he declares to have been a complete misunderstanding. While he is arranging matters I have consented to withhold my right under the duel. He will put this in writing with an acknowledgment that I shall be entitled to exercise that right should he fail in what he has undertaken to do, and I wish you to put your names to the document."He was so broken that he could scarcely keep a steady enough hand to write what was necessary; and while he was so engaged, I drew Mayhew on one side."You know many people in Madrid: do you know of any young doctor who would undertake to stay here with Livenza for a couple of days at most, but certainly until after to-morrow night, never losing sight of him and seeing that he does not commit suicide?""He won't commit suicide," said Mayhew, contemptuously."I know that; but it will make a good excuse for us to give to the doctor who is to watch him," I returned, drily. "It must be a man who won't talk either. And you'll give me your word to say nothing of that distressing scene of his cowardice. There's a good deal in this thing—a good deal. And will you look up Captain Pescada in the morning and get a pledge of secrecy from him?""Certainly I will; and I think I know the man you want.""Can you rouse him up to-night? Of course, I'll see he's well paid. I don't want to be here any longer than necessary; and as soon as this thing's done," nodding to where Livenza was writing, "perhaps you could fetch him."The arrangements as I planned them were carried out without much further loss of time, and as soon as the paper had been read over and signed, and Livenza's seconds had left, Mayhew started in search of his friend. Livenza went to bed, and when the young doctor came and I had given him my instructions, Mayhew and I left the house together."It's all very mysterious, Ferdinand," he said, fishing."Very, Silas; but I hope things will come right in the end.""You're well out of an ugly business.""Or deeper in—it remains to be seen which," I answered, cryptically, and smiled. "But whichever it is, our friendship will have to stand the strain of silence about it. I'm sorry, for I should much like to have you in it with me. But it can't be—at any rate yet. All the better for you, perhaps.""That brute meant to kill you," he said, after a pause."Not the only good intention that's missed fire to-night, probably.""I couldn't understand you a bit. You were as cool and certain as if you knew you'd come out on top.""I think I did know it, too, in a way. Anyhow, I felt dead certain, and that was just as good. But I know a lot more than I did, I'm glad to say.""What do you mean?" he asked, with quick curiosity."I know what it means to stand fire at close range.""All right; I won't question you. But you're a strange beggar;" and he laughed. I thought I could afford to laugh, too, so I joined him. I might not have many more occasions for much laughter, at any rate for a while; and soon after that we parted at the door of his house.It was very late, but I sat for an hour smoking, studying the route of the young King's drive for the next day, and making my plans; and when I turned in my nerves were still in good enough trim for me to get to sleep at once. I had had a very full and very exciting day, but unless I was mistaken the morrow would prove much more critical for me, and probably a no less fateful one for Spain.I sent a letter first thing in the morning to the Embassy, excusing myself from attendance there on the plea of sudden business; and, hiring a horse, rode out to the spot where the attempt on the young King was to be made that afternoon.It was cleverly chosen, indeed. A very quiet, lonely place, where the road dipped and then ran in a cutting between high banks up a sharp incline—such a place, indeed, as was exactly suited to the work. Fortunately I knew the district well, and where the various roads about there led; and I could form a pretty good idea of how the thing would be done.I picked out a good spot where I could keep concealed, watch what transpired, and then follow in pursuit. My plan was a very simple one: To let the affair take place and the abductors get away with the King; then to follow, and just when they were confident all had gone well, strike in and act according to circumstances. My danger lay in the fact that I must be alone; but the personal risks of that were less than any attempt to get others to join me.Of course, a mere word of warning sent to the palace would be sufficient to cause a change in the route for the King's drive, and so check the plot for that afternoon. But that was by no means my sole object. I was bent on making a bold stroke for my own gain; and for this I was as anxious as any Carlist could be for the momentary success of the scheme. I must not only call check, but checkmate, to the desperate man I was fighting.The knowledge I had gained from Vidal de Pelayo, that the Carlists would attempt to carry the King to Huesca, gave me a clue as to the line across country they were sure to take, and a gallop of a few miles refreshed my knowledge of it, and also showed me where in my turn I could make my rescue.I returned to Madrid about noon, confident and in high spirits as the result of my ride, and my next task was to secure the fleetest and strongest horse that could be hired; and I had scarcely reached my rooms after arranging this when a very singular incident occurred.A letter was brought me from Sebastian Quesada, and my servant told me the messenger was waiting for a reply. I opened and read it with great astonishment."Time changed. Six o'clock—not five; return route. Same spot. Communicate instantly."I had had no message from him, or invitation for a drive or ride that day. The letter was just in the brief style of twenty others he had sent me, and it seemed that some former invitation must have miscarried. I was on the point of penning a line to him to this effect when a light suddenly broke upon me.The letter was not for me at all. It had been put by mistake in the wrong envelope. I saw the address was in Quesada's own hand, and in his hurry he had apparently committed the blunder of mixing the two notes.This referred without a doubt to the great event of the day, and my pulses tingled at the thought. I sent for the messenger."Did Senor Quesada give you this with his own hand?" I asked the man, whom I knew as a confidential servant of the Minister's."Yes, senor. I took it first to the British Embassy, but they told me you had not been there to-day, and as my instructions were to await your answer, I came here.""Quite right," I answered, casually. "I'm sorry I shall not be able to do what your master wishes. I have hurt my hand and cannot write," and I lifted my right hand, round which I had bound my handkerchief. I could not send a written reply, as I did not know what I had to answer, and could afterwards blame his servant if my verbal message suggested any discrepancy.As soon as his back was turned I was in a carriage driving fast to Livenza's. I guessed that as this letter was for him, mine might have been enclosed to him, thus forming the counterpart of the mistake.My guess was right, and I found him puzzling over a letter asking me in most pressing terms to join Quesada that afternoon in a long ride, and to dine with him quietly afterwards. I saw the object—to make it impossible for me to interfere in the business of that day, supposing by any chance I had got wind of it.That being his purpose, how would he act when he got my reply? The story of the injured hand would seem to him to be the result of the trouble with Livenza; but it was almost certain that he would come himself to see me. If he did so, and found me absent, he might suspect, and perhaps even at the eleventh hour postpone the coup.A question to Livenza showed me how he would communicate the change of time to those whom it concerned, and the moment I had arranged that I rushed back to my rooms, swathed my hand in bandages, improvised a sling under my coat, and sat down to wait. It was then three o'clock, and I must be away in two hours—by five, that was—if I was not to run a risk of being late, or perhaps of being observed.My guess was right again, and at a quarter past three Quesada was shown into my room. He found me with his letter lying open on my table, while I was trying with infinite pains to write a reply with my left hand. I received him with a welcoming laugh as I flourished my right arm in its sling, and held out my left."My dear Ferdinand, Carlos brought me word that you had injured your hand and could not ride with me this afternoon. I was all anxiety, and have cancelled my arrangements that I may give up the time to cheer you. Tell me, are you much hurt? How did it all happen, in the name of misfortune?"I cursed his solicitude, and saw his object. He had come to see that I did no mischief. But I replied lightly—"That is the act of a good, true friend. Sit down, light a cigar, and let us chat. I was at that moment writing to you—have you ever tried to write with the left hand? It is the devil's trouble. See here," and I held out the letter, taking care that he should see his own at the same time, and laughed over the stumbling effort. "I have been trying ever since Carlos went to write and thank you, and say how sorry I am I can't dine with you either, because I am engaged for the afternoon with my sister and her friend Mrs. Curwen. We came from England together, you know. But I am not due until four o'clock, so we can smoke, drink, and chatter till then.""But you're hurt—what is wrong?""My dear Quesada, though you are what we at home call Home Minister, and therefore head of everything that pertains to law and order in the capital, as elsewhere—and a most capable head, too—this Madrid of yours is the devil's own place for a brawl. And I am bound to say that when the Spanish blood's up the knife's out, and I can speak from experience that the man who gets his fingers in the way of a Spanish knife is a good many kinds of a fool for his trouble. But don't ask any questions; I shall be right again in a day or so, and meanwhile I mean to take care of my left hand;" and I flourished it, laughed again, and gave him a look which might have been intended to suggest any kind of intrigue.He accepted the explanation, I thought, and in a few minutes we were chatting much as usual. As the time passed I grew very anxious for him to go, but he sat on for an hour, showing no indication of leaving, and then I gave him a hint, which he didn't take."Now do me a favour," I said then. "Come with me this afternoon—I must go, for I am due now—and allow me to present you to my sister?" I said it as earnestly as though I knew Mercy and Mrs. Curwen were really at the hotel waiting for me, and to my dismay he hesitated."You tempt me strongly. Your sister must be Dolores' and my friend.""Good; then you will come? It is excellent, too, for Mrs. Curwen is the American capitalist who is going to take up that silver mine business on the Castelars' property, that you offered in London, you know, and she will be delighted to see you and ask you all kinds of questions about it. She is the most——"But his face changed then."I do not like Americans just now," he broke in, "and I have remembered something I omitted to do at my office. You must excuse me. But I will drive you to the hotel.""You are a thoughtful friend always," I replied, knowing he did this because his suspicions of me were not yet allayed. Then came another point. I was dressed for riding—Norfolk jacket and riding gaiters—and could not change them. His quick eyes saw this instantly, and he said with a glance and a laugh—"Your visit is an informal one, Ferdinand?""One's sister learns the art of making excuses, and a man with only one hand can surely plead privilege." And in that dress I started, leaving him only a moment while I secured my revolver and some ammunition.He drove me right to the hotel, and did not leave me until he had actually heard me ask for Miss Carbonnell's and Mrs. Curwen's rooms, and looked after me as the waiter led me away.A glance at my watch showed me it was then nearly half-past four, but I felt compelled to carry on the farce so far as to go to Mrs. Curwen's room, perilously short though the time was growing.CHAPTER XVTHE ABDUCTIONIt is an experience which I expect most of us have known, to have to clap on suddenly the mummer's mask at a moment of serious crisis, and to play the fool just when one's whole mind and thoughts are claimed by really tragic issues. That was my case when I went to Mrs. Curwen's on parting from Quesada.The widow was alone, and was annoyed that I had not been to see her on the previous day, and met me consequently in a mood of satirical banter. Looking at me as though she did not recognise me, she said—"Carbonnell, Carbonnell, I seem to have heard the name; but surely it is so long since I saw a man of the name. Are you Mr. Carbonnell?""I believe I am," I returned, gravely. "And I was actually going to shake hands with you, I think.""I don't think you can be; because I am sure the Mr. Carbonnell I knew would never have remained away long enough for me to forget his face.""Ah, you are thinking of Lascelles Carbonnell. I am Ferdinand, his brother, you know.""I am very angry with you, and that's the truth," she cried, laughing, and colouring at the little thrust. "Lord Glisfoyle would never have behaved in such a way. If this is how Madrid affects people, I wish I'd never come. But what's the matter with your hand?""I have come to have a very difficult surgical operation performed by you or Mercy. Where is she?" She came in as I spoke; and seeing my arm in a sling her face clouded, as she kissed me and asked the reason."Are you really hurt?" asked Mrs. Curwen, doubtingly, sympathy struggling with annoyance. "You don't look ill.""Does a man wear this sort of ornament for fun?" and I drew the bandaged hand from the sling."There's no accounting for what a man will do—in Madrid," she retorted, with a sniff of battle and a toss of the head."Angela!" cried Mercy. "What is the matter, Nand?""He wants us to perform what he calls a 'surgical operation,' Mercy.""The matter is not very serious, I believe," I answered, in deference to the pain on my sister's face, but seeing now how to punish Mrs. Curwen, I added: "They tell me, indeed, that if the bandages are removed very carefully and a particular kind of massage employed, I shall recover the use of the fingers quickly.""I have had a lot of nursing experience, I can do it," said the widow; and she began to handle the bandages very gently. "But what kind of massage do you mean?""That will depend upon the condition in which we find them. I believe they will have to be rubbed by being passed through cloth." This somewhat recondite description of putting them through my coat sleeve puzzled her completely."I never heard of anything like that," she said, wrinkling her forehead in perplexity; now quite serious. "But whoever put these on? I never saw anything so clumsy in my life. I must cut this one," and as she turned away to find scissors, I took occasion to give Mercy a glance, which not only relieved her anxiety, but changed her into an accomplice."Poor old Nand," she cried, in quite a tearful voice, but laughing to me with her eyes. "Be careful, Angela. Shall I do it, dear?""Do you think I can't take a bandage off?" was the reply, with some sharpness, as she came back with the scissors."Ah, oh!" I cried, wincing as if she hurt me at the next touch. "Please be careful. I can't bear pain a bit.""Men never can," she retorted. "I'm sure I scarcely touched you. But if it's as bad as that, I'll be careful," she added, earnestly; and the little farce proceeded, she unwinding the clumsy bandage I had put on, and I wincing and "ah-ing" and grimacing, until the hand was uncovered, and the fingers—bloodless, of course, from the ligature—were exposed to view."What's the matter with them?" she said, examining them closely."It came on suddenly." I explained. "And now for the cloth massage. Gently.""What is cloth massage?""Why, massage with cloth, of course. Wait, I have it;" and without more ado about nothing, I thrust my arm through the sleeve of my coat, and held out my hand to shake hers. "The most wonderful cure on record. Thank you so much."Mercy burst out laughing, but Mrs. Curwen coloured with vexation."What does it mean? You've been fooling," she cried. "I call it horrid of you;" and as she turned away I saw tears of vexation start to her eyes. Then I repented."Forgive me. Honestly, I am sorry and did not mean to vex you. There is a meaning to all this, and some day I'll tell you both, and the tale will surprise you, probably.""I'll forgive you if you're going to stay and take us nut, and then come back to dinner. Your friend Mr. Mayhew is coming. We're going to the Opera. The young King is to be there, and the Queen. It's to be a real gala show.""I should like to see the young King," I replied, truthfully enough, indeed. "But I can't manage to dine with you. Give me the number of your box, and if I can get my work done I'll try and join you there. I must be off now, in fact.""You seem to be very hard-worked at the Embassy," she replied."This is not purely Embassy work; it's rather extra-official than otherwise.""A.B.C. used to say that when a man had out-of-office work there was generally a woman in the case.""Ah, he was an American; and American customs are very unpopular in Madrid just now;" and as my time was up, I hurried away. A short drive carried me to the stables where my horse was in waiting ready saddled, and not a vestige of the little farce remained in my thoughts as I mounted and rode slowly off on what might be so momentous an errand for me.I knew the city well enough to pick my way through by-streets till I reached the outskirts and came out on to the Aravaca road, and then I rattled on for a mile to put my horse's powers to the test. He was a splendid animal, and in the pink of condition, very fast, as sure-footed as a mule, and wonderfully obedient alike to voice, knee, and rein. He would have made a magnificent hunter, and when I put him across a bit of country he took as much pleasure in it as I myself. A jewel of a horse for the task I was upon.I reached the spot I had chosen for my hiding place well before the time; and, tethering my horse securely, I climbed a tree which was to be my observation post, and commenced my vigil. I had about half an hour to wait, for my ride had taken less time than I had allowed; but there was not much fear of the time dragging.I had with me a pair of folding field-glasses of great power and range, and with these I swept the country round for indications of the approach of the royal carriage or of any Carlist preparations. For a long time I looked in vain; but presently a carriage, drawn by a pair of stalwart horses, appeared about half a mile away to my left on the road from the city. It was travelling rapidly, and I lost it soon afterwards behind a small olive wood, which stood close to the crest of the hill. As it did not appear again, the deduction was easy that it was the Carlist carriage, and had been drawn up in concealment to wait for the coming of the young King. I would have given a great deal to know the number of those in it—but this was, of course, impossible.Five minutes later four horsemen straggled up one by one, with considerable intervals between them, and as they did not show on my side of the little wood, I set them down as a further instalment of the performers in the coming drama.As there must be now at least six or eight men, the number of them gave me a twinge of uneasiness. If anything like that number of men were going with the young King after he had been put in the Carlist vehicle, I had made a very grave miscalculation in my plans, which might have the most serious consequences.Nor was this all. As the appointed hour approached a single horseman came riding at a sharp trot from the other direction; and he, too, apparently joined the group waiting by the wood. He seemed to have brought news, for soon after his arrival a man came on foot from the coppice to the crest of the hill, stood a moment shading his eyes and staring across the deep dip which the road made at the spot. After staring thus for perhaps two minutes, he made a sign to his companions and retraced his steps.One thing was at any rate certain from this—the young King was expected; and this meant much.A pause of some ten minutes followed; during which the scrutiny of the road was renewed twice, and the second time the lookout appeared to see what he sought. I turned my glasses upon the road, and saw a horseman spurring with all possible speed in our direction. He dashed down the one hill at breakneck speed, and spurred and flogged his horse up the next to where the others were awaiting him.Almost directly afterwards I saw them commence their preparations; and I jumped to the conclusion that his news was that the royal carriage was close at hand.Six men came out on foot. Four went down the hill, concealed themselves in some bushes that grew by the wayside, and two went farther down, almost to the bottom of the dip, and hid there. Presently two others sauntered slowly a little way down the hill, and directly afterwards the carriage I had formerly seen came out from behind the wood and stood drawn up just far enough from the hill brow to be out of sight of anyone coming up.Altogether a fairly effective disposition of forces. The royal carriage was to pass the first two at the bottom of the decline and to be stopped by the four posted in the middle. If by a mishap it got past the four, the two at the top would stop it: if it was turned back, the two at the bottom would act; while in any case all of them would be almost instantly available for an attack in force.As I turned my glasses anxiously along the road to see whether the young King was coming toward the trap so cunningly laid for him, I felt my heart beginning to beat with the strain of the excitement, and involuntarily I caught my breath and started when I saw a slight cloud of dust in the distance which told of the King's approach.The drama now developed quickly enough to satisfy the most voracious lover of incident. The dust cloud grew larger and larger, till at length I could make out the carriage quite distinctly, and saw that Quesada's information had been absolutely correct. There were no outriders, no escort of any kind, and the only servants on the carriage were a coachman and footman, both on the box. What insanity, I thought, to abandon even ordinary precautions at such a time! And what must not be Quesada's influence even at the palace to get this effected on the flimsy pretence of showing trust in the people!Meanwhile, the men in waiting made a last preparation. When the royal carriage was about half down the hill on my right, three of the Carlists began to move slowly forward and to descend that on my left at a walking pace. Then the driver drew to the side, as though there were not room for the two carriages to pass, and waited. All was now in readiness.The thing was done with remarkable neatness, sureness of touch, and precision of movement. The instant the royal carriage had passed the first couple of men at the bottom, the driver having checked the horses to a walk, they both came out and followed. As it came abreast of the four half way up the hill they sprang out, the carriage above drew into the middle of the road, and the remaining couple running down swiftly, the eight swarmed almost simultaneously upon the quarry.The two servants were dragged from the box in a trice and bound with the reins, and just as the young King thrust his head out of the window to see what was wrong, both doors were flung open, the King was seized by one pair, and the attendant equerry, an old man and incapable of any serious resistance, was collared by the other pair. To borrow an Irish phrase, the thing was over almost before it had begun. The young King proved his pluck and did what he could; but that was, of course, nothing against the strength of the men who seized him and carried him to the carriage up the hill.Then came a delay which puzzled me. The two men got into the Carlist carriage with the young King, and remained in it some three or four minutes, and what they were doing I could not see; but at the end of the time one got out again, shut the door, threw on a footman's livery coat, mounted the box beside the driver, and the carriage started immediately. Two others had meanwhile gone for their horses, and now came out from behind the wood, and followed the carriage at an interval of about a furlong.A last look before I slipped from my tree showed me that the others were now making all haste to get the royal carriage away. Then I ran to my horse, mounted, and started in pursuit.My hopes of accomplishing my object had run down with a rush to zero, and for the time I was full of consternation at the course things had taken. No less than five men were told off to guard the young captive, and I knew they were desperate men, who had imperilled their lives to capture the King, and would risk them freely to keep him. How then could I hope single-handed to effect a rescue? Moreover, it was essential to my plans that I should succeed in my purpose without being recognised by the Carlists; and this seemed to be just a sheer impossibility.The one step which had baffled me was their precaution in having a couple of mounted men to follow the carriage. But for this my task would have been infinitely easier. It made even the work of pursuit vastly difficult. I could not ride on the open road, as this would have roused suspicion; and I had thus to resort to a hundred shifts; now galloping hard straight across country, now waiting in hiding; sometimes crossing the road for better going or to take a straight line where the road curved; and all the time harassed and worried by the constant effort to remain unseen by these men and yet to prevent them from getting out of sight of me.Splendidly as I was mounted, the work began to tell on my horse almost as much as upon my temper, and I grew not only anxious but positively desperate. Full of difficulty as this scouting work was, it was leading nowhere. Time slipped on as mile after mile was traversed, but I got no nearer my object. So little did I like the prospect indeed that at length I was forced to contemplate an entire change of plan and the abandonment of the now forlorn hope of accomplishing the rescue single-handed.It was still open to me to stop the business by dogging the abductors in a more open manner until we came to a place where I could get the carriage stopped by the authorities; and when we were about a couple of miles from the large village of Podrida I resolved most reluctantly to take that course. It involved a bitter disappointment; it would have Heaven alone knew what effect upon my after plans; it might mean indeed the frustration of everything; but I saw no other way, and accordingly I got back on to the road and began to close up the distance between me and the two horsemen as we approached Podrida.I cursed what I called my ill-luck at the turn things had taken, and was riding in a very sullen mood and ill-temper when a little incident occurred which suddenly changed everything, and once more set my hopes beating high.We were about a mile from Podrida, and I was some hundred yards behind the two men, when the horse of one of them fell as they were trotting briskly down a hill, and pitched its rider head foremost heavily on to the rough stony road. His companion pulled up and dismounted. The fallen horse scrambled up, and I saw he was dead lame, while the rider was apparently stunned for the moment.In a trice I resolved to attempt the rescue at once. I clapped my heels into my horse's sides and darted forward at the gallop, and then, luck having changed, Fortune tossed me another favour. The second man had left his animal untethered as he bent over his companion, and, excited apparently at the galloping of my horse, it threw up its head, snorted and neighed as I passed, and came rushing madly after me. Thus in a moment both the guards were out of the fight; and as I had been careful to turn my head in passing, I got by without the risk of recognition.The carriage was some distance ahead, and I had to think quickly of a spot which would suit my purpose. But even in this Fortune continued kind to me. The men with the carriage, finding the horsemen had dropped too far behind them, and not being willing apparently to enter Podrida without them, had halted to wait in just such a spot as I myself would have chosen.As a precaution against identification, I had brought with me a small flesh-coloured silk mask, a relic of an old fancy-dress costume, and I now slipped this on, slouched the brim of my hat well over my eyes, and drew my revolver from my pocket. The issues to all concerned were too weighty, and minutes, even seconds might be too precious for me to dally with any sentimental considerations. If blood had to be shed, it must be shed, let come what might; and my resolve was now running so high that I meant to carry the thing through at all hazards.But even then another splendid stroke of luck came my way. The man with the driver on the box seemed to take alarm on seeing the riderless horse, and, mistaking me for one of his mounted comrades, leapt down from the box and came running toward me. Nothing could have served my purpose better. I rode straight at him, and as I reached him struck him with my heavy hunting-crop, putting all my strength into the blow. He fell like a log, and I rode over him, dashed past the carriage, sent a bullet into the nearest horse's head, turned instantly, and with another shot broke the driver's right arm, and sent him toppling off the box on to the road.The man in the carriage with the King was now ready for me, however, and, leaning out, fired a revolver at me as I dismounted and rushed to the door. The aim was short enough, but the luck was still mine. He missed me, and had no chance of a second shot, for my hunting-crop came down on his wrist, breaking it, and his pistol dropped harmlessly on to the road.In half a minute I had him out and lying helpless and half-stunned on the road, and had jumped into the carriage to the King, only to start back in amazement and dismay at the discovery that it was not the King at all, but a girl lying prone, faint, and helpless on an invalid's stretcher, her eyes staring up into my face with the glazed, set stillness of unconsciousness or paralysed fright. What could it mean and what had I done? What astounding blunder had I perpetrated? What miracle had happened? Where was the young King?
[image]"THE REPORT RANG OUT AND I REALIZED THAT I WAS UNHURT."—Page158.
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"THE REPORT RANG OUT AND I REALIZED THAT I WAS UNHURT."—Page158.
So strong had been my conviction of safety that I had passed through the trying ordeal without even a change of colour, so Mayhew told me afterwards; and was certainly in complete command of my nerves as I entered upon the second stage of the grim drama.
I saw my way as clearly as though written instructions were actually in my hands. He was a coward. Brave enough for the ordinary routine matters of life and of his profession as a soldier, he yet lacked the courage to face the certain death that was waiting for him in the barrel of the pistol lying to my hand; and throughout the whole scene he had been oppressed and overborne by the fear of what such a minute as this must mean for him. It was through his cowardice, his readiness to sacrifice honour for life, that I was to win my way to the knowledge I needed and achieve my purpose.
I began the task with studied cruelty. I bent on him such a look of stern hate and menace as I could assume, and dallied deliberately with his terror before I even laid finger on the pistol stock. Then I smiled as in grim triumph, and picking up the pistol looked carefully at it, and from it across the space between us to him.
His fight for strength was literally repulsive to witness. Terror possessed him so completely that both nerves and muscles refused to obey the direction of the brain, and the pause I made proved the breaking point in his endurance.
"I can't stand; give me a chair," he gasped, piteously.
"Stand back, gentlemen, if you please," I thundered, when his seconds were going to him; and the sound of my voice increased his already crushing fear, so that he swayed and fell forward on the table, like a man collapsed in drink, his arms extended and his hands clenched in a veritable agony of despair and terror.
I allowed a full thirty seconds to pass in a silence that must have been awesome for him, and then let drop the first hint of hope.
"It is my right to fire when I please. I have not said I shall exercise it to-night."
At that I saw the strength begin to move in him again. His fingers relaxed, he drew his arms back and then gradually his body, and at length raised himself slowly and looked at me—question, doubt, fright, appeal, hope, all struggling for expression—a look that, had I been as full of rage and yearning for revenge as he had been and as he believed me to be, would have sufficed to stay my finger on the trigger or have driven me to fire in the air. I have never seen such haggard misery.
There was another pause, in which I looked at him, my face set apparently upon the execution of an implacable resolve to kill him. When it had had its effect and I saw the grey shades of renewed despair falling upon him, I said—
"Gentlemen, I will ask you to withdraw a while. It may be that a way can be found out of this business which may lead to my waiving or indefinitely postponing my right. If Colonel Livenza is willing, I will speak with him privately."
A hurried whispered conference between him and his seconds followed, and then we two were left alone.
CHAPTER XIV
A COWARD'S STORY
After a very short pause Livenza's very shame at his own panic began to give him a sort of firmness of bravado. The worst about him had been made clear; he had shown that he was afraid and was willing to purchase his life; and it was a matter in which he must make the best terms he could. The pressure of imminent death once removed, he could breathe again. In the future he was to be my creature, and he recognised it. That was how I read the sullen, scowling look he gave me as he drew himself up slowly and crossed his arms.
"You can sit down if you wish," I said, curtly, in the tone of a master, to make him feel my authority and to recall to him his former craven appeal.
"I have no wish: I can stand."
"You know your life is forfeit," and I glanced at the pistol in my hand, "and that I have the right to send the bullet crashing into your brain, if I please?"
He winced, and the light of fear glanced again in his eyes. I couldn't have shot him in cold blood, of course, and the thrust was a cruel one. But I knew that he could have shot me under the circumstances, and that he would read my disposition by his own. He was a brute, and must be treated as a brute.
"If you mean to shoot me, do it," he cried.
"I am willing to let you purchase your life, but the terms will be heavy."
"I am in your power and must pay them," he answered, sullenly, but with unmistakable relief.
"First, then, understand this: What has passed here to-night shall never be breathed by either my friends or myself. So far as we are concerned your reputation outside shall stand just where it did when you entered the room. On that I give you my word of honour—if you deal straightly with me. A sign of treachery or a single lie from you, and the truth shall be told."
"I agree to that, of course."
"Moreover, my right to fire this shot is merely postponed, not waived. You will put down in writing what will justify me should your treachery ever make it necessary for me to shoot you."
"I will do that." He was beginning to speak fluently and readily now.
"You will now answer my questions. Are you in Sebastian Quesada's pay or in his power?"
"In his power. He concocted a false charge against me some time ago, confronted me with the proofs, and threatened to have me prosecuted. I dare not face the charge, and from that moment he has used me for various tasks."
"Amongst them this business of the young King's abduction?"
He started violently as I made this rather bold shot.
"What do you know?"
"Everything—except the details." The reply was perhaps a little exaggeration; but I was guessing everything very fast.
"If he knows I have spoken of it to you, he will ruin me. I might as well be dead."
"He will never know, unless you are fool enough to tell him. He sent you to Senorita Castelar's house this afternoon?"
"Yes. He said you would be there." He was sufficiently recovered now for his private feelings to reassert themselves somewhat, and there was a gleam of the old hate of me in his eyes as he gave the answer which let in such a flood of additional light upon my knowledge of Quesada's treachery. I made another long shot.
"He has promised to help your suit with the senorita?"
"You are the devil. You do know everything, indeed," he cried. "Who are you?"
"You are to answer, not question," I returned, sternly. It was now as clear as the sun at noonday that Quesada had planned this quarrel of ours, sending Livenza to catch me with Sarita, with the certain assurance that his jealousy would lead to a duel in which one of us would be certain either to fall or to be laid by during the completion of his plans. He stood to gain almost equally by the death of either. "You took with you some final instructions about this plot; what were they?" I asked, after a moment's pause.
For the first time he hesitated, and I saw the beads of sweat standing thick on his forehead, as he looked at me, trembling like a blade of grass.
"You are asking me for more than my life," he murmured, his very teeth chattering in his irresolution.
"Answer me, or——" I thundered, lifting the pistol a few inches.
"You will never breathe a word of this?" he implored.
"Answer me," I cried again, with implacable sternness.
"He gave me the privately agreed upon route of His Majesty's drive for to-morrow afternoon." He spoke in a voice low and hoarse, and the sentence was broken by three or four pauses, as if the effort to utter it was almost beyond his strength.
"Give it me," I said, instantly.
"I—I dare not," he answered, his voice no louder than a whisper.
"Give it me," I repeated.
"I—I can tell it you," he said, after a long pause.
"Give it me," I cried, sternly. "I shall not ask again."
He plunged a trembling hand into an inner pocket, and without withdrawing it gave me a glance of piteous entreaty.
"Anything but this!" he pleaded. "God have mercy on me; anything but this, senor, I beg you. I was to have destroyed it."
"As you will. Then our conference fails. I will call in our seconds and——"
But he did not let me finish, for with a groan of despair he brought the paper out and laid it on the table.
I picked it up, and a glance showed me what a prize it was. The writing was Quesada's, and it gave the route of the drive and actually suggested the place where the abduction could be made—a spot on the road to Buenavista, close to where the bridge crossed the Manzanares on the way to Aravaca, and specified the time, five o'clock; adding the significant note—"Only one aide in carriage, no escort; coachman and footman."
When I had read it he held out his hand for it, dreaming apparently that I should return it; and when I put it in my pocket he threw up his hands with a deep sigh of despair.
"Why was to-morrow chosen instead of the following day?"
"I don't know. There have been several changes."
I stopped to think. I had indeed made a splendid haul, and there was little else Livenza was likely to be able to tell me. There was one question I had yet to answer; but it was certain that he would not know any more than I. What was Sebastian's object in all this? I had thought of the probable solution when I was with Sarita—that he was playing for his own hand and meant to get rid of the young King and to crush the Carlists by one and the same stroke; and to pit myself against a man shrewd enough to conceive such a policy and daring enough to put it to the actual test, seemed like madness. But I had made up my mind to attempt it; and the document I now had in my pocket would be a powerful weapon if only I could see the means to use it shrewdly.
As I stood a minute or two revolving these matters, Livenza was staring at me with the fascinated gaze with which a hunted animal will watch the beast of prey that threatens its life, and at length said—
"Is there anything more. I am not well, senor."
"No, you have saved your life; but you will remain close in your rooms until I send you word. To all but Sebastian Quesada you will be ill in bed. Any message he sends you, you will immediately forward to me; and he must not know that you are not acting just as usual. I will find someone who will nurse you day and night and watch you."
"I cannot serve both you and Sebastian Quesada. I cannot do it. I must have either your protection or his," he cried, feebly.
"You will have mine," I answered, in a tone I might have used had I been the master of countless legions. "Serve me in this matter, and you will have your reward. Fail me, and I swear I will take your life."
Without giving him time to answer, I called in the other men, and found that Captain Pescada had gone away, leaving many apologies. I apologised for having kept the others waiting.
"Colonel Livenza is ill, gentlemen," I added. "He has given me proofs of his desire to make ample amends for the insult of this evening, offered under what he declares to have been a complete misunderstanding. While he is arranging matters I have consented to withhold my right under the duel. He will put this in writing with an acknowledgment that I shall be entitled to exercise that right should he fail in what he has undertaken to do, and I wish you to put your names to the document."
He was so broken that he could scarcely keep a steady enough hand to write what was necessary; and while he was so engaged, I drew Mayhew on one side.
"You know many people in Madrid: do you know of any young doctor who would undertake to stay here with Livenza for a couple of days at most, but certainly until after to-morrow night, never losing sight of him and seeing that he does not commit suicide?"
"He won't commit suicide," said Mayhew, contemptuously.
"I know that; but it will make a good excuse for us to give to the doctor who is to watch him," I returned, drily. "It must be a man who won't talk either. And you'll give me your word to say nothing of that distressing scene of his cowardice. There's a good deal in this thing—a good deal. And will you look up Captain Pescada in the morning and get a pledge of secrecy from him?"
"Certainly I will; and I think I know the man you want."
"Can you rouse him up to-night? Of course, I'll see he's well paid. I don't want to be here any longer than necessary; and as soon as this thing's done," nodding to where Livenza was writing, "perhaps you could fetch him."
The arrangements as I planned them were carried out without much further loss of time, and as soon as the paper had been read over and signed, and Livenza's seconds had left, Mayhew started in search of his friend. Livenza went to bed, and when the young doctor came and I had given him my instructions, Mayhew and I left the house together.
"It's all very mysterious, Ferdinand," he said, fishing.
"Very, Silas; but I hope things will come right in the end."
"You're well out of an ugly business."
"Or deeper in—it remains to be seen which," I answered, cryptically, and smiled. "But whichever it is, our friendship will have to stand the strain of silence about it. I'm sorry, for I should much like to have you in it with me. But it can't be—at any rate yet. All the better for you, perhaps."
"That brute meant to kill you," he said, after a pause.
"Not the only good intention that's missed fire to-night, probably."
"I couldn't understand you a bit. You were as cool and certain as if you knew you'd come out on top."
"I think I did know it, too, in a way. Anyhow, I felt dead certain, and that was just as good. But I know a lot more than I did, I'm glad to say."
"What do you mean?" he asked, with quick curiosity.
"I know what it means to stand fire at close range."
"All right; I won't question you. But you're a strange beggar;" and he laughed. I thought I could afford to laugh, too, so I joined him. I might not have many more occasions for much laughter, at any rate for a while; and soon after that we parted at the door of his house.
It was very late, but I sat for an hour smoking, studying the route of the young King's drive for the next day, and making my plans; and when I turned in my nerves were still in good enough trim for me to get to sleep at once. I had had a very full and very exciting day, but unless I was mistaken the morrow would prove much more critical for me, and probably a no less fateful one for Spain.
I sent a letter first thing in the morning to the Embassy, excusing myself from attendance there on the plea of sudden business; and, hiring a horse, rode out to the spot where the attempt on the young King was to be made that afternoon.
It was cleverly chosen, indeed. A very quiet, lonely place, where the road dipped and then ran in a cutting between high banks up a sharp incline—such a place, indeed, as was exactly suited to the work. Fortunately I knew the district well, and where the various roads about there led; and I could form a pretty good idea of how the thing would be done.
I picked out a good spot where I could keep concealed, watch what transpired, and then follow in pursuit. My plan was a very simple one: To let the affair take place and the abductors get away with the King; then to follow, and just when they were confident all had gone well, strike in and act according to circumstances. My danger lay in the fact that I must be alone; but the personal risks of that were less than any attempt to get others to join me.
Of course, a mere word of warning sent to the palace would be sufficient to cause a change in the route for the King's drive, and so check the plot for that afternoon. But that was by no means my sole object. I was bent on making a bold stroke for my own gain; and for this I was as anxious as any Carlist could be for the momentary success of the scheme. I must not only call check, but checkmate, to the desperate man I was fighting.
The knowledge I had gained from Vidal de Pelayo, that the Carlists would attempt to carry the King to Huesca, gave me a clue as to the line across country they were sure to take, and a gallop of a few miles refreshed my knowledge of it, and also showed me where in my turn I could make my rescue.
I returned to Madrid about noon, confident and in high spirits as the result of my ride, and my next task was to secure the fleetest and strongest horse that could be hired; and I had scarcely reached my rooms after arranging this when a very singular incident occurred.
A letter was brought me from Sebastian Quesada, and my servant told me the messenger was waiting for a reply. I opened and read it with great astonishment.
"Time changed. Six o'clock—not five; return route. Same spot. Communicate instantly."
I had had no message from him, or invitation for a drive or ride that day. The letter was just in the brief style of twenty others he had sent me, and it seemed that some former invitation must have miscarried. I was on the point of penning a line to him to this effect when a light suddenly broke upon me.
The letter was not for me at all. It had been put by mistake in the wrong envelope. I saw the address was in Quesada's own hand, and in his hurry he had apparently committed the blunder of mixing the two notes.
This referred without a doubt to the great event of the day, and my pulses tingled at the thought. I sent for the messenger.
"Did Senor Quesada give you this with his own hand?" I asked the man, whom I knew as a confidential servant of the Minister's.
"Yes, senor. I took it first to the British Embassy, but they told me you had not been there to-day, and as my instructions were to await your answer, I came here."
"Quite right," I answered, casually. "I'm sorry I shall not be able to do what your master wishes. I have hurt my hand and cannot write," and I lifted my right hand, round which I had bound my handkerchief. I could not send a written reply, as I did not know what I had to answer, and could afterwards blame his servant if my verbal message suggested any discrepancy.
As soon as his back was turned I was in a carriage driving fast to Livenza's. I guessed that as this letter was for him, mine might have been enclosed to him, thus forming the counterpart of the mistake.
My guess was right, and I found him puzzling over a letter asking me in most pressing terms to join Quesada that afternoon in a long ride, and to dine with him quietly afterwards. I saw the object—to make it impossible for me to interfere in the business of that day, supposing by any chance I had got wind of it.
That being his purpose, how would he act when he got my reply? The story of the injured hand would seem to him to be the result of the trouble with Livenza; but it was almost certain that he would come himself to see me. If he did so, and found me absent, he might suspect, and perhaps even at the eleventh hour postpone the coup.
A question to Livenza showed me how he would communicate the change of time to those whom it concerned, and the moment I had arranged that I rushed back to my rooms, swathed my hand in bandages, improvised a sling under my coat, and sat down to wait. It was then three o'clock, and I must be away in two hours—by five, that was—if I was not to run a risk of being late, or perhaps of being observed.
My guess was right again, and at a quarter past three Quesada was shown into my room. He found me with his letter lying open on my table, while I was trying with infinite pains to write a reply with my left hand. I received him with a welcoming laugh as I flourished my right arm in its sling, and held out my left.
"My dear Ferdinand, Carlos brought me word that you had injured your hand and could not ride with me this afternoon. I was all anxiety, and have cancelled my arrangements that I may give up the time to cheer you. Tell me, are you much hurt? How did it all happen, in the name of misfortune?"
I cursed his solicitude, and saw his object. He had come to see that I did no mischief. But I replied lightly—
"That is the act of a good, true friend. Sit down, light a cigar, and let us chat. I was at that moment writing to you—have you ever tried to write with the left hand? It is the devil's trouble. See here," and I held out the letter, taking care that he should see his own at the same time, and laughed over the stumbling effort. "I have been trying ever since Carlos went to write and thank you, and say how sorry I am I can't dine with you either, because I am engaged for the afternoon with my sister and her friend Mrs. Curwen. We came from England together, you know. But I am not due until four o'clock, so we can smoke, drink, and chatter till then."
"But you're hurt—what is wrong?"
"My dear Quesada, though you are what we at home call Home Minister, and therefore head of everything that pertains to law and order in the capital, as elsewhere—and a most capable head, too—this Madrid of yours is the devil's own place for a brawl. And I am bound to say that when the Spanish blood's up the knife's out, and I can speak from experience that the man who gets his fingers in the way of a Spanish knife is a good many kinds of a fool for his trouble. But don't ask any questions; I shall be right again in a day or so, and meanwhile I mean to take care of my left hand;" and I flourished it, laughed again, and gave him a look which might have been intended to suggest any kind of intrigue.
He accepted the explanation, I thought, and in a few minutes we were chatting much as usual. As the time passed I grew very anxious for him to go, but he sat on for an hour, showing no indication of leaving, and then I gave him a hint, which he didn't take.
"Now do me a favour," I said then. "Come with me this afternoon—I must go, for I am due now—and allow me to present you to my sister?" I said it as earnestly as though I knew Mercy and Mrs. Curwen were really at the hotel waiting for me, and to my dismay he hesitated.
"You tempt me strongly. Your sister must be Dolores' and my friend."
"Good; then you will come? It is excellent, too, for Mrs. Curwen is the American capitalist who is going to take up that silver mine business on the Castelars' property, that you offered in London, you know, and she will be delighted to see you and ask you all kinds of questions about it. She is the most——"
But his face changed then.
"I do not like Americans just now," he broke in, "and I have remembered something I omitted to do at my office. You must excuse me. But I will drive you to the hotel."
"You are a thoughtful friend always," I replied, knowing he did this because his suspicions of me were not yet allayed. Then came another point. I was dressed for riding—Norfolk jacket and riding gaiters—and could not change them. His quick eyes saw this instantly, and he said with a glance and a laugh—
"Your visit is an informal one, Ferdinand?"
"One's sister learns the art of making excuses, and a man with only one hand can surely plead privilege." And in that dress I started, leaving him only a moment while I secured my revolver and some ammunition.
He drove me right to the hotel, and did not leave me until he had actually heard me ask for Miss Carbonnell's and Mrs. Curwen's rooms, and looked after me as the waiter led me away.
A glance at my watch showed me it was then nearly half-past four, but I felt compelled to carry on the farce so far as to go to Mrs. Curwen's room, perilously short though the time was growing.
CHAPTER XV
THE ABDUCTION
It is an experience which I expect most of us have known, to have to clap on suddenly the mummer's mask at a moment of serious crisis, and to play the fool just when one's whole mind and thoughts are claimed by really tragic issues. That was my case when I went to Mrs. Curwen's on parting from Quesada.
The widow was alone, and was annoyed that I had not been to see her on the previous day, and met me consequently in a mood of satirical banter. Looking at me as though she did not recognise me, she said—
"Carbonnell, Carbonnell, I seem to have heard the name; but surely it is so long since I saw a man of the name. Are you Mr. Carbonnell?"
"I believe I am," I returned, gravely. "And I was actually going to shake hands with you, I think."
"I don't think you can be; because I am sure the Mr. Carbonnell I knew would never have remained away long enough for me to forget his face."
"Ah, you are thinking of Lascelles Carbonnell. I am Ferdinand, his brother, you know."
"I am very angry with you, and that's the truth," she cried, laughing, and colouring at the little thrust. "Lord Glisfoyle would never have behaved in such a way. If this is how Madrid affects people, I wish I'd never come. But what's the matter with your hand?"
"I have come to have a very difficult surgical operation performed by you or Mercy. Where is she?" She came in as I spoke; and seeing my arm in a sling her face clouded, as she kissed me and asked the reason.
"Are you really hurt?" asked Mrs. Curwen, doubtingly, sympathy struggling with annoyance. "You don't look ill."
"Does a man wear this sort of ornament for fun?" and I drew the bandaged hand from the sling.
"There's no accounting for what a man will do—in Madrid," she retorted, with a sniff of battle and a toss of the head.
"Angela!" cried Mercy. "What is the matter, Nand?"
"He wants us to perform what he calls a 'surgical operation,' Mercy."
"The matter is not very serious, I believe," I answered, in deference to the pain on my sister's face, but seeing now how to punish Mrs. Curwen, I added: "They tell me, indeed, that if the bandages are removed very carefully and a particular kind of massage employed, I shall recover the use of the fingers quickly."
"I have had a lot of nursing experience, I can do it," said the widow; and she began to handle the bandages very gently. "But what kind of massage do you mean?"
"That will depend upon the condition in which we find them. I believe they will have to be rubbed by being passed through cloth." This somewhat recondite description of putting them through my coat sleeve puzzled her completely.
"I never heard of anything like that," she said, wrinkling her forehead in perplexity; now quite serious. "But whoever put these on? I never saw anything so clumsy in my life. I must cut this one," and as she turned away to find scissors, I took occasion to give Mercy a glance, which not only relieved her anxiety, but changed her into an accomplice.
"Poor old Nand," she cried, in quite a tearful voice, but laughing to me with her eyes. "Be careful, Angela. Shall I do it, dear?"
"Do you think I can't take a bandage off?" was the reply, with some sharpness, as she came back with the scissors.
"Ah, oh!" I cried, wincing as if she hurt me at the next touch. "Please be careful. I can't bear pain a bit."
"Men never can," she retorted. "I'm sure I scarcely touched you. But if it's as bad as that, I'll be careful," she added, earnestly; and the little farce proceeded, she unwinding the clumsy bandage I had put on, and I wincing and "ah-ing" and grimacing, until the hand was uncovered, and the fingers—bloodless, of course, from the ligature—were exposed to view.
"What's the matter with them?" she said, examining them closely.
"It came on suddenly." I explained. "And now for the cloth massage. Gently."
"What is cloth massage?"
"Why, massage with cloth, of course. Wait, I have it;" and without more ado about nothing, I thrust my arm through the sleeve of my coat, and held out my hand to shake hers. "The most wonderful cure on record. Thank you so much."
Mercy burst out laughing, but Mrs. Curwen coloured with vexation.
"What does it mean? You've been fooling," she cried. "I call it horrid of you;" and as she turned away I saw tears of vexation start to her eyes. Then I repented.
"Forgive me. Honestly, I am sorry and did not mean to vex you. There is a meaning to all this, and some day I'll tell you both, and the tale will surprise you, probably."
"I'll forgive you if you're going to stay and take us nut, and then come back to dinner. Your friend Mr. Mayhew is coming. We're going to the Opera. The young King is to be there, and the Queen. It's to be a real gala show."
"I should like to see the young King," I replied, truthfully enough, indeed. "But I can't manage to dine with you. Give me the number of your box, and if I can get my work done I'll try and join you there. I must be off now, in fact."
"You seem to be very hard-worked at the Embassy," she replied.
"This is not purely Embassy work; it's rather extra-official than otherwise."
"A.B.C. used to say that when a man had out-of-office work there was generally a woman in the case."
"Ah, he was an American; and American customs are very unpopular in Madrid just now;" and as my time was up, I hurried away. A short drive carried me to the stables where my horse was in waiting ready saddled, and not a vestige of the little farce remained in my thoughts as I mounted and rode slowly off on what might be so momentous an errand for me.
I knew the city well enough to pick my way through by-streets till I reached the outskirts and came out on to the Aravaca road, and then I rattled on for a mile to put my horse's powers to the test. He was a splendid animal, and in the pink of condition, very fast, as sure-footed as a mule, and wonderfully obedient alike to voice, knee, and rein. He would have made a magnificent hunter, and when I put him across a bit of country he took as much pleasure in it as I myself. A jewel of a horse for the task I was upon.
I reached the spot I had chosen for my hiding place well before the time; and, tethering my horse securely, I climbed a tree which was to be my observation post, and commenced my vigil. I had about half an hour to wait, for my ride had taken less time than I had allowed; but there was not much fear of the time dragging.
I had with me a pair of folding field-glasses of great power and range, and with these I swept the country round for indications of the approach of the royal carriage or of any Carlist preparations. For a long time I looked in vain; but presently a carriage, drawn by a pair of stalwart horses, appeared about half a mile away to my left on the road from the city. It was travelling rapidly, and I lost it soon afterwards behind a small olive wood, which stood close to the crest of the hill. As it did not appear again, the deduction was easy that it was the Carlist carriage, and had been drawn up in concealment to wait for the coming of the young King. I would have given a great deal to know the number of those in it—but this was, of course, impossible.
Five minutes later four horsemen straggled up one by one, with considerable intervals between them, and as they did not show on my side of the little wood, I set them down as a further instalment of the performers in the coming drama.
As there must be now at least six or eight men, the number of them gave me a twinge of uneasiness. If anything like that number of men were going with the young King after he had been put in the Carlist vehicle, I had made a very grave miscalculation in my plans, which might have the most serious consequences.
Nor was this all. As the appointed hour approached a single horseman came riding at a sharp trot from the other direction; and he, too, apparently joined the group waiting by the wood. He seemed to have brought news, for soon after his arrival a man came on foot from the coppice to the crest of the hill, stood a moment shading his eyes and staring across the deep dip which the road made at the spot. After staring thus for perhaps two minutes, he made a sign to his companions and retraced his steps.
One thing was at any rate certain from this—the young King was expected; and this meant much.
A pause of some ten minutes followed; during which the scrutiny of the road was renewed twice, and the second time the lookout appeared to see what he sought. I turned my glasses upon the road, and saw a horseman spurring with all possible speed in our direction. He dashed down the one hill at breakneck speed, and spurred and flogged his horse up the next to where the others were awaiting him.
Almost directly afterwards I saw them commence their preparations; and I jumped to the conclusion that his news was that the royal carriage was close at hand.
Six men came out on foot. Four went down the hill, concealed themselves in some bushes that grew by the wayside, and two went farther down, almost to the bottom of the dip, and hid there. Presently two others sauntered slowly a little way down the hill, and directly afterwards the carriage I had formerly seen came out from behind the wood and stood drawn up just far enough from the hill brow to be out of sight of anyone coming up.
Altogether a fairly effective disposition of forces. The royal carriage was to pass the first two at the bottom of the decline and to be stopped by the four posted in the middle. If by a mishap it got past the four, the two at the top would stop it: if it was turned back, the two at the bottom would act; while in any case all of them would be almost instantly available for an attack in force.
As I turned my glasses anxiously along the road to see whether the young King was coming toward the trap so cunningly laid for him, I felt my heart beginning to beat with the strain of the excitement, and involuntarily I caught my breath and started when I saw a slight cloud of dust in the distance which told of the King's approach.
The drama now developed quickly enough to satisfy the most voracious lover of incident. The dust cloud grew larger and larger, till at length I could make out the carriage quite distinctly, and saw that Quesada's information had been absolutely correct. There were no outriders, no escort of any kind, and the only servants on the carriage were a coachman and footman, both on the box. What insanity, I thought, to abandon even ordinary precautions at such a time! And what must not be Quesada's influence even at the palace to get this effected on the flimsy pretence of showing trust in the people!
Meanwhile, the men in waiting made a last preparation. When the royal carriage was about half down the hill on my right, three of the Carlists began to move slowly forward and to descend that on my left at a walking pace. Then the driver drew to the side, as though there were not room for the two carriages to pass, and waited. All was now in readiness.
The thing was done with remarkable neatness, sureness of touch, and precision of movement. The instant the royal carriage had passed the first couple of men at the bottom, the driver having checked the horses to a walk, they both came out and followed. As it came abreast of the four half way up the hill they sprang out, the carriage above drew into the middle of the road, and the remaining couple running down swiftly, the eight swarmed almost simultaneously upon the quarry.
The two servants were dragged from the box in a trice and bound with the reins, and just as the young King thrust his head out of the window to see what was wrong, both doors were flung open, the King was seized by one pair, and the attendant equerry, an old man and incapable of any serious resistance, was collared by the other pair. To borrow an Irish phrase, the thing was over almost before it had begun. The young King proved his pluck and did what he could; but that was, of course, nothing against the strength of the men who seized him and carried him to the carriage up the hill.
Then came a delay which puzzled me. The two men got into the Carlist carriage with the young King, and remained in it some three or four minutes, and what they were doing I could not see; but at the end of the time one got out again, shut the door, threw on a footman's livery coat, mounted the box beside the driver, and the carriage started immediately. Two others had meanwhile gone for their horses, and now came out from behind the wood, and followed the carriage at an interval of about a furlong.
A last look before I slipped from my tree showed me that the others were now making all haste to get the royal carriage away. Then I ran to my horse, mounted, and started in pursuit.
My hopes of accomplishing my object had run down with a rush to zero, and for the time I was full of consternation at the course things had taken. No less than five men were told off to guard the young captive, and I knew they were desperate men, who had imperilled their lives to capture the King, and would risk them freely to keep him. How then could I hope single-handed to effect a rescue? Moreover, it was essential to my plans that I should succeed in my purpose without being recognised by the Carlists; and this seemed to be just a sheer impossibility.
The one step which had baffled me was their precaution in having a couple of mounted men to follow the carriage. But for this my task would have been infinitely easier. It made even the work of pursuit vastly difficult. I could not ride on the open road, as this would have roused suspicion; and I had thus to resort to a hundred shifts; now galloping hard straight across country, now waiting in hiding; sometimes crossing the road for better going or to take a straight line where the road curved; and all the time harassed and worried by the constant effort to remain unseen by these men and yet to prevent them from getting out of sight of me.
Splendidly as I was mounted, the work began to tell on my horse almost as much as upon my temper, and I grew not only anxious but positively desperate. Full of difficulty as this scouting work was, it was leading nowhere. Time slipped on as mile after mile was traversed, but I got no nearer my object. So little did I like the prospect indeed that at length I was forced to contemplate an entire change of plan and the abandonment of the now forlorn hope of accomplishing the rescue single-handed.
It was still open to me to stop the business by dogging the abductors in a more open manner until we came to a place where I could get the carriage stopped by the authorities; and when we were about a couple of miles from the large village of Podrida I resolved most reluctantly to take that course. It involved a bitter disappointment; it would have Heaven alone knew what effect upon my after plans; it might mean indeed the frustration of everything; but I saw no other way, and accordingly I got back on to the road and began to close up the distance between me and the two horsemen as we approached Podrida.
I cursed what I called my ill-luck at the turn things had taken, and was riding in a very sullen mood and ill-temper when a little incident occurred which suddenly changed everything, and once more set my hopes beating high.
We were about a mile from Podrida, and I was some hundred yards behind the two men, when the horse of one of them fell as they were trotting briskly down a hill, and pitched its rider head foremost heavily on to the rough stony road. His companion pulled up and dismounted. The fallen horse scrambled up, and I saw he was dead lame, while the rider was apparently stunned for the moment.
In a trice I resolved to attempt the rescue at once. I clapped my heels into my horse's sides and darted forward at the gallop, and then, luck having changed, Fortune tossed me another favour. The second man had left his animal untethered as he bent over his companion, and, excited apparently at the galloping of my horse, it threw up its head, snorted and neighed as I passed, and came rushing madly after me. Thus in a moment both the guards were out of the fight; and as I had been careful to turn my head in passing, I got by without the risk of recognition.
The carriage was some distance ahead, and I had to think quickly of a spot which would suit my purpose. But even in this Fortune continued kind to me. The men with the carriage, finding the horsemen had dropped too far behind them, and not being willing apparently to enter Podrida without them, had halted to wait in just such a spot as I myself would have chosen.
As a precaution against identification, I had brought with me a small flesh-coloured silk mask, a relic of an old fancy-dress costume, and I now slipped this on, slouched the brim of my hat well over my eyes, and drew my revolver from my pocket. The issues to all concerned were too weighty, and minutes, even seconds might be too precious for me to dally with any sentimental considerations. If blood had to be shed, it must be shed, let come what might; and my resolve was now running so high that I meant to carry the thing through at all hazards.
But even then another splendid stroke of luck came my way. The man with the driver on the box seemed to take alarm on seeing the riderless horse, and, mistaking me for one of his mounted comrades, leapt down from the box and came running toward me. Nothing could have served my purpose better. I rode straight at him, and as I reached him struck him with my heavy hunting-crop, putting all my strength into the blow. He fell like a log, and I rode over him, dashed past the carriage, sent a bullet into the nearest horse's head, turned instantly, and with another shot broke the driver's right arm, and sent him toppling off the box on to the road.
The man in the carriage with the King was now ready for me, however, and, leaning out, fired a revolver at me as I dismounted and rushed to the door. The aim was short enough, but the luck was still mine. He missed me, and had no chance of a second shot, for my hunting-crop came down on his wrist, breaking it, and his pistol dropped harmlessly on to the road.
In half a minute I had him out and lying helpless and half-stunned on the road, and had jumped into the carriage to the King, only to start back in amazement and dismay at the discovery that it was not the King at all, but a girl lying prone, faint, and helpless on an invalid's stretcher, her eyes staring up into my face with the glazed, set stillness of unconsciousness or paralysed fright. What could it mean and what had I done? What astounding blunder had I perpetrated? What miracle had happened? Where was the young King?