"Good old Tim! I wish I had been in the scrum. I am going to ask my pater if I may join you."CHAPTER XVIIITHE ORDER OF THE NASTURTIUMTim sent twenty of the Japanese to patrol the plaza, to be relieved after two hours. Then he returned to bed, feeling immensely elated at the astonishing turn of affairs.Early in the morning, a group of men were seen approaching under a flag of truce from the end of the street remote from the plaza. Some were leading horses. Their leader was alone admitted through the gate, while a party of Japanese with loaded rifles kept watch on the others from the windows of the guardroom. The man announced that he had come with his companions, all members of the Prefect's mercenary army, to offer their services to the Señor Inglés. They had been for weeks without pay; they had served the Prefect from necessity rather than choice; and were ready to strike a blow for freedom.Tim had a natural prejudice against turncoats. But he reflected that in this kind of warfare a wholesale change of sides was not uncommon. His father had expected that any Mollendist success would immediately result in a large accession of recruits, and he decided to accept the men's offer. When, however, later in the day, after his proclamation had been read in the plaza, more men came in, civilians of San Rosario as well as troopers of the Prefect's, he felt somewhat embarrassed. To admit more than a hundred to the barracks seemed to him rather hazardous. Such volatile soldiers of fortune might change sides again at any moment, and turn their arms against him. He therefore resolved to take no more than fifty into the barracks, bidding the rest to remain in their own homes, and hold themselves ready to take the field when summoned. If he could have been quite sure of their loyalty he would have despatched them to reinforce the party at the defile, but he felt that he must not run any risks for the present, hoping that ere long his father would arrive to take over his responsibilities, which were beginning to weigh upon him.Just before midday a messenger arrived from Romaña. He reported that early in the morning he had had a brush with a small advance body of the enemy, who had retired after the exchange of a few shots. Romaña himself had only reached the spot a few minutes before the enemy appeared. He had ridden to the Mollendist camp with the news of Tim's movements, and Mr. O'Hagan, after a momentary outburst of anger, had promised to march at once for the town. But his progress would necessarily be slow, owing to the fact that more than half his men were unmounted, and to the need for care in slipping past the enemy in the Inca camp.It seemed to Tim that the most serious element in the situation was the danger of an advance in force along the San Juan road. The men who had been checked by Romaña were probably few in number; the passage of a really strong detachment could not long be seriously disputed by so small a party. It must be reinforced at once. Here Tim was in a difficulty. He could not part with his own men; on the other hand, his new recruits had as yet given no proof of their loyalty. He saw that he must take risks to avoid greater risks, and decided to send a hundred men up the road to support Romaña. He arranged also for relays of mounted men to post themselves on the road and bring him early news of any fresh attack on the defile. To guard against danger from the Inca camp he despatched a few mounted men along the road in that direction, to keep watch and get in touch with the Mollendists as they approached. The rest of his little force he kept under arms in the barracks, ready to launch them in whatever quarter their support might be required.In San Juan, meanwhile, the news of the successive disasters suffered by the official troops had struck the Prefect like thunder-claps. He had been busily organising his forces for a decisive blow against the Mollendists, and was finding it necessary, much against the grain, to part with a large portion of the money he had recently obtained from the gobernador and from Mr. O'Hagan's safe, in making up arrears of pay for his unruly mercenaries. The messengers and fugitives who had got through from San Rosario carried with them so startling a story of the vast numbers who had attacked the town that he hesitated to move out until he had made careful arrangements for securing his position at the capital. He had contented himself with sending a single troop along the road to San Rosario, to feel for the enemy and discover what the position really was. The speedy return of these men, with report of having been ambuscaded at the defile, filled him with as much uneasiness as dismay. Knowing how precarious was his hold upon the loyalty of his forces, he sought to attach them to him by lavish promises and considerable advance sums as earnest of his sincerity. As soon as day dawned he pushed on his preparations with feverish activity.At San Rosario the day passed without incident. There was great excitement in the town, but no breach of order. Everybody knew by this time that the attack overnight had been led by the young foreigner, and he was so popular a person that the majority of the citizens were not at all displeased with his proclamation. The gendarmes who had held the gobernador captive in his house having fled, Señor Fagasta came forth into the plaza, and made an attempt to assert his authority. But being assured by Dr. Pereira that the reins of power were now definitely in other hands, he retired to his patio, exchanged his official dress for his old alpaca coat and a Panama hat, and solaced himself with strong cigars and many copitas of brandy for his compulsory withdrawal from public life. During the day sundry groups of Peruvian youths and other idlers ventured timorously along the street from the country end, and gazed open-mouthed at the gates of the barracks and at the smiling Japanese posted at the windows; but after a time Tim thought it advisable to keep the street clear, and posted a couple of his men at the end to keep off intruders.Early next morning word was brought from his advanced scouts that the Mollendist army had been sighted far up the western track. Every few minutes further reports arrived. Tim, all tingling with excitement, paced up and down the guardroom, wondering whether he ought to remain at his post, or whether he might ride out to meet his father. Presently he heard that a crowd of the townsfolk were pouring out into the country to hail the Liberator. At this news boyish impetuosity prevailed over all considerations of form. Rushing to the stables, Tim sprang on a horse and galloped out, down the street, and through the rabble.He met the ragged company a mile from the cross-roads, marching, horse and foot, at the heels of Mollendo and Mr. O'Hagan."Hallo, Father!" Tim shouted as he dashed up."You young scamp!" cried Mr. O'Hagan, who was nevertheless delighted with the scamp. He had begun to think that Tim's action in forcing his hand was going to bear good fruit: he had picked up several recruits on the way."Thank God you're safe!" he continued, clasping the boy's hand. "It was terribly rash of you, my boy: what your poor mother would say I don't know: I don't like to think about it. You have fairly taken the wind out of my sails;youought to be generalissimo, bedad! Seriously, you have set the ball rolling to some purpose. Mollendo is in ecstasies."Mollendo had tactfully ridden on, so that the meeting of father and son might be private. And being met at this point by some of his chief supporters in the town, he went forward with them, leaving word that he wished Lieutenant O'Hagan to follow him to the gobernador's house."You had better cut off and get a wash, my boy," said Mr. O'Hagan. "You're as black as a sweep.""I don't wonder. I haven't had time to wash; but I'll ride back to the barracks and soon follow you. Old Moll looks considerably bucked.""He is. A word of advice: don't call him Old Moll in the hearing of the men, and don't laugh when he addresses you.""I don't mind so long as he doesn't kiss me," said Tim, and rode away.Half an hour afterwards he rode into the plaza, blushing at thevivasthat burst from the throats of the rag-tag and bobtail who were assembled at the sides, kept back by the armed Japanese. He found Mollendo in the official chamber, with Mr. O'Hagan, Dr. Pereira, the lawyer, and other notables of the town. Mollendo rose from his chair, advanced to meet Tim, and before the boy could draw back kissed him on both cheeks."I cannot sufficiently express my delight and gratitude, Señor Lieutenant O'Hagan," he said. "I heard some particulars of your noble conduct from Nicolas Romaña; the señor doctor has related your magnificent defence of the barracks; you have displayed the transcendent military aptitude of your race, and proved yourself a compeer of the illustrious Wellington, who so heroically defended the liberties of the land of my forefathers against the tyranny of the Corsican. I feel that I can best signalise this great occasion by promoting you to a colonelcy in the army of liberation. Viva Colonel O'Hagan!"Tim had often laughed at the perfervid orations he had heard delivered by Peruvians, but he felt more abashed than amused now."Old gasser!" he thought. "Why can't he talk sense!" But his reply was very polite. "Thank you, excellency," he said; "you are very good, but if you don't mind I will remain as I am for the present. It was all a sort of accident; there wasn't really much of a fight, and--and----"Mr. O'Hagan interposed as Tim found words fail him."Take my thanks also, excellency, for the honour you propose to confer on my son; but he is very young, and I think he should earn his promotion gradually.""I defer to you, my dear general. I am charmed by your son's modesty--a virtue that is ever the attribute of great men. But I intend to establish an order of merit for distinguished service under the new republic"--here every one started--"it shall be styled the Order of the Nasturtium; and your son shall be the first recipient of the insignia."This announcement fell rather flat after the startling declaration of Mollendo's intentions, made so casually. Mollendo had in fact determined to form a republic, independent of Peru, which had always failed to exercise efficient sovereignty in this remote province east of the Andes. The audacity of his scheme appealed to the imagination of the Peruvians present. After the first moments of surprise they hailed Mollendo as Don Carlos, the first President, and the lawyer asked eagerly that his excellency would allow him to draw up a proclamation. That historic document, when it appeared, bore many traces of Mollendo's own inspiration. He was nothing if not eloquent, and the sounding phrases which he dictated were calculated to impress a people peculiarly susceptible to fine language. The proclamation was taken to the only printing-press which San Rosario could boast, and within a few hours of Mollendo's arrival the pink leaflets were distributed broadcast.There resulted a further rush of recruits. The people were captivated by the idea of an independent republic. Before evening the President's army had swollen to nearly five hundred men. This gave Mr. O'Hagan more pleasure than flamboyant proclamations and the founding of orders, which he regarded as premature and theatrical. He took up his quarters with Tim in the barracks, and pleased the boy intensely by discussing the military position with him. The important matter was to hold the Prefect in check, and at the same time prevent a junction of his forces from San Juan with the men in the Inca camp. These latter were probably now on the move, though they, like the Prefect, might be holding back through alarm at the exaggerated reports brought to them by any fugitives who had retreated in that direction. To save their face, runaways always overstate the numbers of the force that has discomfited them.The fortunes of the Mollendists were decidedly in the ascendant. Their numbers, it was true, were still much inferior to those at the Prefect's disposal; but a few hours had already worked wonders, and time was in their favour--if the time were not too long drawn out. Recruits would no doubt continue to flock in: Mollendo's would be regarded as the winning side; but it was necessary to keep the machine in motion. If once the impetus due to the recent successes was lost, there would be a tendency to run back in the opposite direction.Mr. O'Hagan decided to hold the crossroads, three miles west of his own house, with a force sufficient to prevent the advance of the enemy from the Inca camp, and to employ the greater part of his troops in defending the defile on the San Juan road."You will take command at the crossroads, Tim," he said. "Keep watch on those fellows from the north; if they try to force a passage, either this way or to San Juan, prevent them. But sit tight; don't go adventuring, and don't force an action if the enemy are quiet. I may need you at any moment to reinforce me against the Prefect. We have the advantage at present. The Prefect's two forces are separated by fifty miles of hills; we hold the only practicable routes; to effect a junction they'll have to make a detour of a hundred miles or more. You and I will be within touch, and can work together. My plan is to beat the enemy in detail--just as you have done, my boy.""Inherited instinct, Father," said Tim with a sly look.Mr. O'Hagan laughed."I don't know what your mother would say," he remarked. "Mollendo is sure to send his wife word of his new dignity. You'd better write a note for your mother to go with mine and the President's. Don't say too much: all that she really wants to know is that you are safe. The rest won't interest her.""I'm not so sure of that," Tim thought.CHAPTER XIXPARDO SCORES A TRICKBefore putting his plans in action, Mr. O'Hagan went to the gobernador's house (now styled the Palace of Liberty) to lay them before Señor Mollendo. He supposed that the President, preoccupied with the administrative business of the infant republic, would cease to concern himself with the details of the campaign. A surprise awaited him. Mollendo approved his plans, but said that he would himself accompany the main force. His presence and his eloquence were, he thought, indispensable to success."Moreover, general," he said blandly, "since your son, with commendable modesty, has declined the colonel's commission which I offered him, it will be necessary for form's sake to appoint an officer of that rank to command the second army. I recommend for that honourable post Señor Zegarra, a gentleman of proved loyalty, upon whom I have just conferred a colonel's commission."Mr. O'Hagan was annoyed. Señor Zegarra, the second of the trio who had formed the deputation to Tim, was a retired architect, with no military experience. Still, he was an amiable man, and Mr. O'Hagan hoped by a little judicious and tactful handling to prevent any interference with his plans.Tim laughed heartily when his father returned and told him of the President's action."Old Moll means to be boss," he said."Old meddler!" grumbled Mr. O'Hagan. "However, it can't be helped. I'll get Zegarra to make you chief of staff, and if you go gently with him you can see that he doesn't upset the apple-cart."Tim was secretly not ill-pleased at the change. It would give him, he hoped, greater freedom of action. As commander of the force he would have been tied to it. He could not leave his men. And since he had already made up his mind to fetch the petrol cans which he had concealed in the shrubbery, and make use of the motor-bicycle again, he needed no consolation for being superseded.Mr. O'Hagan made a point of seeking out old Pedro Galdos, and thanking him for arranging his escape from prison. Knowing that the caballero, poor as he was, would disdain a pecuniary reward, Mr. O'Hagan had hit upon a more excellent way. He asked him to accept the appointment of commissary-general to the forces, taking care to couch the offer in the flowery terms that a Peruvian loves. Galdos accepted with dignity, straightened his shrunken old frame, and went off to harass all the provision dealers in the town.In the afternoon the two forces rode out, Mr. O'Hagan and the President at the head of about 350 men, Tim and Señor Zegarra with 150, including his Japanese. These were on foot; all the rest were mounted. Mr. O'Hagan marched towards San Juan, Tim to the cross-roads north of the town. On reaching his post, carrying out his father's instructions, he set his men to throw up a light earthwork at the intersection, and rendered the woods on each side impassable by an abattis. He sent a number of horsemen forward for several miles on both the eastern and western tracks, to watch for the enemy and give timely warning if they should approach from the Inca camp.Señor Zegarra was, as Mr. O'Hagan had said, a very amiable gentleman; and when Tim, after the bivouac had settled down, announced that he wished to fetch his motor-bicycle, which might be useful in scouting, the new-made colonel gave a gracious approval. Tim was rather perplexed as to the best way to set about it. To begin with, he had no petrol; but that difficulty was easily solved. He picked out four of his most trusty Japanese, explained to them clearly where they would find the cans he had hidden, and sent them through his father's plantations to bring them in. They would also report what they could discover about the state of affairs at the house: he thought it scarcely likely that Pardo had ventured back again. It was probably deserted.But, having the petrol, how could he bring back the motor-cycle? To walk to the cave would be a long and wearisome job: to ride seemed to mean that on returning he must leave the horse behind. He could not ride both horse and cycle. He might, of course, take horsemen with him, and leave his own steed with them; but the existence of the cave was known only to Romaña and two others, and he thought it would be as well to keep the secret which was not his own. But before the Japanese returned laden with the petrol cans he had solved the problem. He would ride out on horseback, carrying just enough petrol to last for the run, leave the horse with one of his vedettes some distance from the cave, and go on alone for the cycle. The horse could be brought back at leisure.When the petrol arrived, he filled two flasks and slung them on his saddle-bow. The messengers reported that all was quiet at the house. It appeared to be locked up and uninhabited. Tim suspected that Pardo had been among the men who had fled from the town, and had very likely gone to San Juan to stir up the Prefect. The loss of the hacienda would be a stinging blow to him. Tim wondered what had become of old Biddy and the other servants, and made up his mind to take the first opportunity of finding out.He set off, rode along his chain of vedettes, and halting at the man nearest the cave on the San Rosario side, dismounted and proceeded on foot. In a few minutes he returned on the cycle, much to the surprise of the vedette. Colonel Zegarra smiled paternally when he rode into the camp, and made a laughing allusion to the gobernador's ludicrous appearance on that historic occasion a few days before. To Tim it seemed to have happened weeks ago.The little force was not provided with tents. Men and officers slept on saddle cloths, spread in glades among the trees. The situation was far from pleasant. The low ground was infested with mosquitoes and other insects, whose pertinacious attentions kept awake many more than those who were on sentry duty.During the night Tim resolved to make a circular reconnaissance next morning, if there was no warning of the enemy's advance. On his cycle he could cover the ground much more rapidly than on horseback, and, with the zeal of a novice, he was eager to examine the paths minutely from a strategical point of view. He would go by the western and return by the eastern path, trusting to the speed of his machine if he came in touch with the enemy and were pursued.Colonel Zegarra raised no objection when Tim diplomatically suggested the importance of obtaining a thorough knowledge of the ground. The nominal commander was in fact a figure-head, conscious of his own ignorance, and quite content to leave everything to his chief of staff, and to reap the credit of the successes which he hoped that energetic young man would gain.Tim rode off immediately after breakfast. On the way he passed the vedettes strung out at intervals of about three miles, and leaving the last vedette behind, near the cave, sped on beside the river. The only serious risk he had to guard against until he reached the cross-track leading to the eastern path was the possibility of meeting a party of the enemy approaching from round a bend. In such a case he might have scant time to turn his machine; indeed, in many places he would have to dismount to do so, owing to the narrowness of the track. If this occurred on a rising gradient, he might be overtaken before he could get away. But he had all his wits about him, and reflected that after all the enemy, if they moved, would probably follow the more direct road past Durand's house.He arrived at the spot where his father's party had halted while Romaña scouted along the cross-track. Turning to the right, he rode for some little distance along this track, then suddenly made up his mind to return to the river, approach a little nearer to the camp, and leaving the machine well hidden, climb up to the ridge and try to see what the enemy were doing. From the top there was an uninterrupted view for many miles. The climb proved an even stiffer business than he expected, and on gaining the summit, hot, out of breath, and with trembling legs, he was disgusted to find that the Inca camp was too distant for him to distinguish anything very clearly without the aid of field-glasses. He saw figures moving about in the enclosure, but there was no sign, on the track or in the camp itself, of any general movement. It was quite possible that the events of the past two days were still unknown there. The fugitives from the town would naturally have turned towards San Juan, which was nearer than the Inca camp, and much more easily accessible. But the lack of communication between the camp and San Rosario struck Tim, raw hand though he was, as evidence of astonishing neglect of ordinary military precautions.Returning to his machine, Tim rode along the cross-track, reversing the direction of his night escape, which already seemed ancient history. He was careful to profit by the screen of trees on his left hand, and so keep out of sight from the spot where Mollendo's scouts had been posted; and he approached the fork warily. There was no one in sight, either up or down the eastern track. He wheeled to the right, and rode on towards his own camp at the cross-roads.Only once before had he travelled this part of the track on his cycle--when he returned home after being ransomed. He remembered how difficult he had found it, both when riding down, and when marching up with his captors. It was uneven, tortuous, and with many gradients. Its general tendency was downhill, but here and there it rose so steeply that, in spite of the power of his engine, he had to alight and push the machine. At similar descents he had some trouble in holding it in with his brakes, and where the track twisted and ran downhill at the same time, for safety's sake he dismounted again, and found that wheeling down was even more difficult than pushing up. But the worst was over when he arrived within about three miles of Durand's house. From this point the track ran almost uninterruptedly downhill, and was fairly smooth, and he sped along gaily at the rate of sixty miles an hour.A downward run of about a mile brought him to the wooden footbridge spanning a deep fissure that cut across the track. For two hundred yards above the bridge the machine was quite beyond control; even a slight rise in the last fifty yards failed to check his speed appreciably. He dashed on to the rough timbers at a force that made him tremble for the framework of the cycle, and not until he was fifty yards up the gentle gradient on the farther side was he able to reduce his speed to a reasonable rate."I must have been going a tremendous lick that time," he thought, after these breathless moments. "Wonder I didn't come a cropper!"When he reached Durand's house he decided to call and ask whether Felipe had obtained his father's consent to join the President's forces. He came away with what is colloquially termed "a flea in his ear." Señor Durand met him at the door, refused to let him see Felipe, and bundled him off as if he were a tramp. The gentleman acted very conscientiously on the old maxim that you go safest in the middle. He had subscribed to the funds of both factions impartially, and having no faith in the power of either to maintain a permanent superiority he bluntly declined to allow his son to take any part in the struggle. Tim, as he turned away, caught sight of his friend looking at him disconsolately from a window, and with a grimace which meant "Rotten bad luck, old man!" he resumed his ride.It was early afternoon when he arrived in camp. He made a formal report to his amiable chief, whose wife and daughters had come out to admire him in his new role. Several other townspeople were chatting with their friends. Tim was very hungry after his long outing, and extricating himself from the flattering attentions of the ladies, he went away to get something to eat. Everything had been quiet during his absence. Galdos had brought a fresh supply of provisions. No news had been received from Mr. O'Hagan.After a good meal Tim, finding that there was nothing to do except talk to the ladies, whom he thought quite out of place in a military camp, decided to ride over to his house, see for himself what his messengers had reported on the previous evening, and get a much-needed change of clothes. It was only three miles away. Leaving the cycle to be cleaned by one of the Japanese, he mounted a horse and set off. He found the house apparently deserted. The garden was trampled; the place had already taken on the signs of neglect; doors and windows were closed, and the shattered glass of the patio entrance had been replaced by boards.Tim wondered what had become of the household. The mestizo servants had possibly taken, shelter with friends in the town; perhaps old Biddy Flanagan had sought a refuge with Señora Pereira. He tied his horse to a post and tried the front door. It was locked. Going round to the back, he found that the window of his bedroom had not been fastened. He opened it and climbed in. As he passed through the room into the patio he fancied he heard a slight sound somewhere in the house: but after listening for a moment decided that he was mistaken. All the same he moved on tiptoe, feeling an unaccountable nervousness.He went from the patio into the corridor, glancing through the open doors into the rooms as he passed. They appeared to be just as they were left, except that the table in the dining-room was cleared. He came to the office. The door was shut, but not locked. He opened it and went in. The first thing that caught his eye was the safe, open and empty. Then he noticed a hole in the floor. The matting had been taken up, and two or three of the boards removed. At the edge of the hole lay a quantity of plate, some silver ornaments from the dining-room, the ormolu clock from the drawing-room, several porcelain vases, and other articles of more or less value.All this he took in at a glance. Before he had time even to guess at the explanation of the strange scene there was a rush from behind the door, and he found himself grasped from the rear by two men. He tried to wrench himself away, dragging his captors about the room. It was useless to cry for help; he wished he had brought somebody with him. He managed to get one of his arms free, and twisting himself round, hit out at the man now in front of him, whom he did not recognise. There was some satisfaction in knowing that the fellow would have a black eye. But at this moment the other man flung a cloak over his head. With his one free hand he tried to tear it away, but it was drawn tighter and tighter across his mouth. His arm was caught again; he gasped for breath; his struggles became feebler; and by and by he lost consciousness.When he came to himself, with a racking pain in his head, he found himself on the floor, gagged and securely bound. Pardo, now alone, was bundling the valuables together. Tim watched him as he corded them in a strip of canvas. In a moment Pardo glanced at him, and seeing his eyes open, smiled, and began to talk, while still going on with his occupation.[image]THE HOLE IN THE FLOOR"Buenos dias, señor capitan," he said with a sarcastic intonation. "This is a little surprise, is it not? Not very pleasant; no. But strange as it may seem to you at this moment, I bear you no ill will personally. Your brigand father, to be sure, has treated me abominably. He has insulted the honour of a Peruvian gentleman, and that is an offence which, as you know, is frequently, and justly, avenged with blood. But you!--you are just a foolish boy; your impulses run away with you, and one is naturally lenient to the indiscretions of youth."He paused while straining at the cord, then resumed:"But one has to consider the public interest; and in fulfilment of my public duty I have felt it necessary to put a check upon your personal freedom. Having already had experience of similar restraint, you will no doubt be able to take your present condition with philosophic equanimity. If I am not mistaken, you owed your release on the former occasion to the payment of a ransom. Well, events sometimes repeat themselves. That lies in the discretion of his excellency the Prefect, whom I am about to join; he shall decide what to do with his prisoner."Here he tied the last knot and stood erect, looking down at Tim with a sardonic grin that made his blood boil."But it would be inconvenient to take you with me," Pardo went on. "We might meet some of your bandit friends, who would probably jump to rash conclusions. Having a careful regard for your safety, I must leave you here, but I trust your solitude will not be protracted. In the public interest I ought perhaps to shoot you; but perhaps your market price now exceeds £250; you may be more valuable alive than dead. That thought will console you during your enforced seclusion. There is one little difficulty which it would be wrong not to mention. If any misadventure should befall me on my way to the Prefect, the secret of your hiding-place will be lost. That would be very regrettable, but I must ask you to consider that the responsibility will lie with your friends the brigands."At this moment the second man entered."Is all ready?" asked Pardo."Yes; I have secured the horse.""Very well. Oblige me by pulling up another board."The man wrenched up the plank. Then the two lifted Tim, and bundled him into the cavity like a sack."A reveder, señor capitan," Pardo called through the hole.The boards were replaced. Tim was in darkness. For some minutes he heard the men moving about above him, and the faint sound of laughter. Then their feet dragged heavily on the floor: no doubt they were removing the bundle. The footsteps died away; and Tim was left in solitude and silence.The cavity into which Tim had been thrown had been excavated for the sake of keeping the rooms above dry, and extended beneath the house from end to end. It was not a pleasant place. The ground was damp; the atmosphere was stuffy; air could enter only by one narrow grating. Its humidity and the sub-tropical heat favoured the multiplication of innumerable insects, and Tim had not been there many minutes before the voracious creatures discovered him and began to make the most of their opportunity and their victim's helplessness. They crawled over his hands, up his sleeves, upon his face, into his hair. He did his best by shaking his head and twitching his features to rid himself of the tormenting pests; but they pricked and stung with great determination and vigour, and he was soon in pain and distress.If only he could have removed the gag he would not have felt so utterly helpless. Not that shouting would have been of any use in an empty house, but the power to groan would have seemed a luxury. And when by and by he fancied that he heard shuffling footsteps about the house, he struggled in his bonds until he felt bruised and lacerated. All was in vain. His head began to ache; ideas the most incongruous jostled in his feverish brain. He tried to collect himself and keep his mind fixed; but he could not control his thoughts. Recollections of the Black Hole of history came to harass him, and in alarm and terror lest he should wholly lose his wits he strained his muscles to the uttermost. The effort exhausted him, and presently he fell into a dull stupor, in which he was conscious of nothing.CHAPTER XXPARDO LOSES A TRICKAt a late hour that night a rather weary horseman rode into the Prefect's camp, a few miles beyond the defile which Mr. O'Hagan was holding with his 400 men. News of the Mollendist extravagances in San Rosario having reached San Juan, the Prefect with a sudden burst of energy moved out with a motley force of 1500, and established himself on the hills in readiness to force the passage next day. The horseman sought out the Prefect's quarters, in a sheltered glade some distance from the track, and was checked every few yards by sentries demanding the countersign. The Prefect was always very careful that all proper precautions were taken for the safeguard of his person.Pardo was rather annoyed by these frequent interruptions. He was very tired. The roundabout route which he had been forced to take by the presence of the enemy across the road had kept him for many hours in the saddle. He had hidden the loot from his late master's house; but, like all traitors, he did not trust the man who had assisted him, and almost wished that he had not left the spoils and his friend behind. But, knowing the kind of men who formed the bulk of the Prefect's army, he had prudently decided not to bring valuables within their reach and expose them to temptation.He came to the last of the chain of sentries, and requested an interview with the Prefect."His excellency is asleep, señor," said the man dubiously. "It is very late.""Tell his excellency that Señor Miguel Pardo desires to see him," returned Pardo with impatience.The man durst not leave his post, but summoned a comrade, who conveyed the message."His excellency cursed and declined to see you until the morning, señor," said the man on his return.Now, so far as Pardo knew, there was no need for haste. He had taken great care to gag and bind Tim very thoroughly. He had left the house locked up and the windows fastened, and even if anybody should break in, it was unlikely that the hiding-place beneath the floor of the office would be suspected and the prisoner discovered. But Pardo was eager to conclude a scheme which he had ingeniously concocted. He had also a rather exaggerated notion of his importance. So he sent the messenger back again, to say that he had something of great moment to communicate, and begged the Prefect to see him at once.After a little delay he was admitted to his excellency, whom he found reclining on a camp bed in the open air; tents were not required in this rainless region."What is this important matter that justifies the disturbance of my rest?" asked the Prefect, rather haughtily."I regret the necessity, excellency," said Pardo, "but I think when you have heard me you will consider me justified.""Well, say on.""Your excellency would no doubt be glad to be rid of the man O'Hagan and his boy?""Caramba! I agree with you. Without them the brigands would be easily dealt with, and this ridiculous republic would tumble like a house of cards. You have some plan?""I have, excellency; but I beg you not to demand particulars. I have means of getting rid of them both. It has cost me a great deal of labour and not a little danger.""Name your price," said the Prefect impatiently. "And I warn you to be moderate, for this expedition is draining me.""It will not cost you a peseta, excellency. All that I ask is that you will bestow on me, free of taxes, the full ownership of O'Hagan's hacienda.""Por Dios! That is your idea of moderation! The hacienda produces several thousand pounds a year. Not cost me a peseta, indeed! You are presumptuous, señor.""What I shall do is worth the price, excellency. O'Hagan has great military capacity. The Mollendist cause is gaining ground. A single reverse will break up your army, and even if you win you will have endless trouble while the Inglés is at large."The Prefect reflected. He had reckoned on making a large income out of Mr. O'Hagan's estate. He might still do so, even if he acceded to Pardo's terms. What he gave he could also take away. When the insurrection had been scotched, he could squeeze Pardo until he became troublesome, and then confiscate the property a second time. After a show of hesitation he agreed to the proposal, and did not demur when Pardo asked him to sign his name to a paper with which the man with admirable forethought had come provided.Pardo took his leave. He might now have thought himself justified in seeking repose, but impatient greed still urged him on. He mounted his horse, rode through the lines, and did not halt until he had reached the Mollendist outposts, whom he approached under a flag of truce. It was perhaps fortunate that they were not Mr. O'Hagan's Japanese workmen. It was fortunate, too, that he did not encounter Romaña. He was taken to Mr. O'Hagan, who lacked the luxury of a camp bed: his couch was a bundle of straw."It's you, is it?" said Mr. O'Hagan dryly, as he recognised his visitor. "Going to turn traitor again?"Pardo bit his lips; there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes. But he curbed his anger: he was a man of policy."I have the honour to inform you, señor," he said coldly, "that your son is a prisoner."Mr. O'Hagan went pale. This was an unexpected blow. But he said nothing."The Prefect is, as you are aware, not so complaisant as the brigand Mollendo," Pardo continued. "He will not release the boy for a paltry £250. He will not accept any sum as ransom for so mischievous a rebel."He paused, as a cat releases a mouse for a moment, for the pleasure, it would seem, of prolonging its victim's agony."What have you come here for?" cried Mr. O'Hagan impetuously. "Merely to harass me, you----"He checked himself. It was no good abusing the man."I come to make a proposal," said Pardo. "Your son is at present my prisoner; it rests with you whether I hand him over to the Prefect, and then!..." He expressed his meaning by a gesture. "Or whether he is released, and allowed to rejoin you. My terms are quite simple, but absolutely unconditional. They are not open to discussion. You will make a formal assignment of your estate to me; you will then leave the country. Your son's life depends on your prompt acceptance."Mr. O'Hagan sprang up."What is to prevent me from shooting you, you villain?" he cried, overmastered by his rage.Pardo shrank from him. He felt a chill run down his spine like a trickle of cold water. But he recovered himself in a moment."The honour of an Englishman will prevent you," he said with an air of assurance. "Besides, if I die, your son dies. Nobody but myself and one other knows where he is. He will starve!"Mr. O'Hagan shivered. Pardo quailed before his blazing eyes. For a moment there was silence; then Mr. O'Hagan, putting a restraint upon himself, said:"If I assign my estate to you----""Discussion is mere waste of time," Pardo interposed. "The conditions are peremptory. You must not only assign your estate to me but leave the country. That is final.""Go away," said Mr. O'Hagan."I cannot go without an answer.""I will send for you--presently, when I have made up my mind--in a few minutes."Pardo withdrew, lit a cigarette, and strolled up and down. He felt very confident, and flattered himself on his astuteness. He was by no means so sure of the success of the Prefect's arms as he had professed in his interview with that gentleman, even if Mr. O'Hagan were out of the way. The Mollendists were growing in number; Mollendo had made a clever move in declaring for a republic, and the loyalty of the Prefect's troops hung by a very slender thread. Pardo had schemed to secure possession of the estate in any event. But it was necessary to get rid of Mr. O'Hagan. Mollendo, if he gained the upper hand, might in O'Hagan's absence respect the assignment. He was a stickler for law. But the Prefect would certainly not do so unless his enemy were removed. Pardo considered that he had played his cards well.Mr. O'Hagan was in a cruel predicament. He could not doubt Pardo's story. He would willingly have given up his estate to save Tim's life, but could he also desert the cause which he had taken up? His honour was engaged. He paced up and down the bare space in front of his couch: the sight of the red end of Pardo's cigarette a few yards away filled him with bitter anger. He knew that he must yield. With Tim's life and his own honour in the balance, there was no doubt which would outweigh the other. He was too proud to consult Señor Mollendo. The dilemma must be solved by himself alone. He could only make up his mind, go to the President, and confess that every other consideration--wealth, success, honour--must give way before the danger of his only son.Out of the darkness Romaña came up to him."A despatch from Colonel Zegarra, señor," he said. "The courier waits for a reply."Pardo saw Romaña, flung his cigarette away, and effaced himself among the trees. Mr. O'Hagan took the envelope, and tearing it open mechanically, read the few lines it contained. And then Romaña was amazed to find his hand grasped and shaken vigorously."He's safe, Nicolas!" said Mr. O'Hagan, working his arm up and down like a pump-handle. "My boy's safe!""Señor!""Go and kick that villain out," cried Mr. O'Hagan, recollecting himself."Señor, I don't understand!""Pardo! He's over there. Bring him to me."Romaña followed the indication of his outstretched hand, and came back with Pardo, who, watching the scene, had been invaded by a vague uneasiness."Go and hang yourself; that's my answer," said Mr. O'Hagan, turning his back on the startled man. "See him safe out," he called over his shoulder to Romaña. "If the Japs get hold of him they'll throttle him."And Pardo, feeling with a sinking heart that something had gone amiss, was escorted by Romaña to the outskirts of the camp.Mr. O'Hagan read again the brief despatch. It was in Colonel Zegarra's writing.
"Good old Tim! I wish I had been in the scrum. I am going to ask my pater if I may join you."
CHAPTER XVIII
THE ORDER OF THE NASTURTIUM
Tim sent twenty of the Japanese to patrol the plaza, to be relieved after two hours. Then he returned to bed, feeling immensely elated at the astonishing turn of affairs.
Early in the morning, a group of men were seen approaching under a flag of truce from the end of the street remote from the plaza. Some were leading horses. Their leader was alone admitted through the gate, while a party of Japanese with loaded rifles kept watch on the others from the windows of the guardroom. The man announced that he had come with his companions, all members of the Prefect's mercenary army, to offer their services to the Señor Inglés. They had been for weeks without pay; they had served the Prefect from necessity rather than choice; and were ready to strike a blow for freedom.
Tim had a natural prejudice against turncoats. But he reflected that in this kind of warfare a wholesale change of sides was not uncommon. His father had expected that any Mollendist success would immediately result in a large accession of recruits, and he decided to accept the men's offer. When, however, later in the day, after his proclamation had been read in the plaza, more men came in, civilians of San Rosario as well as troopers of the Prefect's, he felt somewhat embarrassed. To admit more than a hundred to the barracks seemed to him rather hazardous. Such volatile soldiers of fortune might change sides again at any moment, and turn their arms against him. He therefore resolved to take no more than fifty into the barracks, bidding the rest to remain in their own homes, and hold themselves ready to take the field when summoned. If he could have been quite sure of their loyalty he would have despatched them to reinforce the party at the defile, but he felt that he must not run any risks for the present, hoping that ere long his father would arrive to take over his responsibilities, which were beginning to weigh upon him.
Just before midday a messenger arrived from Romaña. He reported that early in the morning he had had a brush with a small advance body of the enemy, who had retired after the exchange of a few shots. Romaña himself had only reached the spot a few minutes before the enemy appeared. He had ridden to the Mollendist camp with the news of Tim's movements, and Mr. O'Hagan, after a momentary outburst of anger, had promised to march at once for the town. But his progress would necessarily be slow, owing to the fact that more than half his men were unmounted, and to the need for care in slipping past the enemy in the Inca camp.
It seemed to Tim that the most serious element in the situation was the danger of an advance in force along the San Juan road. The men who had been checked by Romaña were probably few in number; the passage of a really strong detachment could not long be seriously disputed by so small a party. It must be reinforced at once. Here Tim was in a difficulty. He could not part with his own men; on the other hand, his new recruits had as yet given no proof of their loyalty. He saw that he must take risks to avoid greater risks, and decided to send a hundred men up the road to support Romaña. He arranged also for relays of mounted men to post themselves on the road and bring him early news of any fresh attack on the defile. To guard against danger from the Inca camp he despatched a few mounted men along the road in that direction, to keep watch and get in touch with the Mollendists as they approached. The rest of his little force he kept under arms in the barracks, ready to launch them in whatever quarter their support might be required.
In San Juan, meanwhile, the news of the successive disasters suffered by the official troops had struck the Prefect like thunder-claps. He had been busily organising his forces for a decisive blow against the Mollendists, and was finding it necessary, much against the grain, to part with a large portion of the money he had recently obtained from the gobernador and from Mr. O'Hagan's safe, in making up arrears of pay for his unruly mercenaries. The messengers and fugitives who had got through from San Rosario carried with them so startling a story of the vast numbers who had attacked the town that he hesitated to move out until he had made careful arrangements for securing his position at the capital. He had contented himself with sending a single troop along the road to San Rosario, to feel for the enemy and discover what the position really was. The speedy return of these men, with report of having been ambuscaded at the defile, filled him with as much uneasiness as dismay. Knowing how precarious was his hold upon the loyalty of his forces, he sought to attach them to him by lavish promises and considerable advance sums as earnest of his sincerity. As soon as day dawned he pushed on his preparations with feverish activity.
At San Rosario the day passed without incident. There was great excitement in the town, but no breach of order. Everybody knew by this time that the attack overnight had been led by the young foreigner, and he was so popular a person that the majority of the citizens were not at all displeased with his proclamation. The gendarmes who had held the gobernador captive in his house having fled, Señor Fagasta came forth into the plaza, and made an attempt to assert his authority. But being assured by Dr. Pereira that the reins of power were now definitely in other hands, he retired to his patio, exchanged his official dress for his old alpaca coat and a Panama hat, and solaced himself with strong cigars and many copitas of brandy for his compulsory withdrawal from public life. During the day sundry groups of Peruvian youths and other idlers ventured timorously along the street from the country end, and gazed open-mouthed at the gates of the barracks and at the smiling Japanese posted at the windows; but after a time Tim thought it advisable to keep the street clear, and posted a couple of his men at the end to keep off intruders.
Early next morning word was brought from his advanced scouts that the Mollendist army had been sighted far up the western track. Every few minutes further reports arrived. Tim, all tingling with excitement, paced up and down the guardroom, wondering whether he ought to remain at his post, or whether he might ride out to meet his father. Presently he heard that a crowd of the townsfolk were pouring out into the country to hail the Liberator. At this news boyish impetuosity prevailed over all considerations of form. Rushing to the stables, Tim sprang on a horse and galloped out, down the street, and through the rabble.
He met the ragged company a mile from the cross-roads, marching, horse and foot, at the heels of Mollendo and Mr. O'Hagan.
"Hallo, Father!" Tim shouted as he dashed up.
"You young scamp!" cried Mr. O'Hagan, who was nevertheless delighted with the scamp. He had begun to think that Tim's action in forcing his hand was going to bear good fruit: he had picked up several recruits on the way.
"Thank God you're safe!" he continued, clasping the boy's hand. "It was terribly rash of you, my boy: what your poor mother would say I don't know: I don't like to think about it. You have fairly taken the wind out of my sails;youought to be generalissimo, bedad! Seriously, you have set the ball rolling to some purpose. Mollendo is in ecstasies."
Mollendo had tactfully ridden on, so that the meeting of father and son might be private. And being met at this point by some of his chief supporters in the town, he went forward with them, leaving word that he wished Lieutenant O'Hagan to follow him to the gobernador's house.
"You had better cut off and get a wash, my boy," said Mr. O'Hagan. "You're as black as a sweep."
"I don't wonder. I haven't had time to wash; but I'll ride back to the barracks and soon follow you. Old Moll looks considerably bucked."
"He is. A word of advice: don't call him Old Moll in the hearing of the men, and don't laugh when he addresses you."
"I don't mind so long as he doesn't kiss me," said Tim, and rode away.
Half an hour afterwards he rode into the plaza, blushing at thevivasthat burst from the throats of the rag-tag and bobtail who were assembled at the sides, kept back by the armed Japanese. He found Mollendo in the official chamber, with Mr. O'Hagan, Dr. Pereira, the lawyer, and other notables of the town. Mollendo rose from his chair, advanced to meet Tim, and before the boy could draw back kissed him on both cheeks.
"I cannot sufficiently express my delight and gratitude, Señor Lieutenant O'Hagan," he said. "I heard some particulars of your noble conduct from Nicolas Romaña; the señor doctor has related your magnificent defence of the barracks; you have displayed the transcendent military aptitude of your race, and proved yourself a compeer of the illustrious Wellington, who so heroically defended the liberties of the land of my forefathers against the tyranny of the Corsican. I feel that I can best signalise this great occasion by promoting you to a colonelcy in the army of liberation. Viva Colonel O'Hagan!"
Tim had often laughed at the perfervid orations he had heard delivered by Peruvians, but he felt more abashed than amused now.
"Old gasser!" he thought. "Why can't he talk sense!" But his reply was very polite. "Thank you, excellency," he said; "you are very good, but if you don't mind I will remain as I am for the present. It was all a sort of accident; there wasn't really much of a fight, and--and----"
Mr. O'Hagan interposed as Tim found words fail him.
"Take my thanks also, excellency, for the honour you propose to confer on my son; but he is very young, and I think he should earn his promotion gradually."
"I defer to you, my dear general. I am charmed by your son's modesty--a virtue that is ever the attribute of great men. But I intend to establish an order of merit for distinguished service under the new republic"--here every one started--"it shall be styled the Order of the Nasturtium; and your son shall be the first recipient of the insignia."
This announcement fell rather flat after the startling declaration of Mollendo's intentions, made so casually. Mollendo had in fact determined to form a republic, independent of Peru, which had always failed to exercise efficient sovereignty in this remote province east of the Andes. The audacity of his scheme appealed to the imagination of the Peruvians present. After the first moments of surprise they hailed Mollendo as Don Carlos, the first President, and the lawyer asked eagerly that his excellency would allow him to draw up a proclamation. That historic document, when it appeared, bore many traces of Mollendo's own inspiration. He was nothing if not eloquent, and the sounding phrases which he dictated were calculated to impress a people peculiarly susceptible to fine language. The proclamation was taken to the only printing-press which San Rosario could boast, and within a few hours of Mollendo's arrival the pink leaflets were distributed broadcast.
There resulted a further rush of recruits. The people were captivated by the idea of an independent republic. Before evening the President's army had swollen to nearly five hundred men. This gave Mr. O'Hagan more pleasure than flamboyant proclamations and the founding of orders, which he regarded as premature and theatrical. He took up his quarters with Tim in the barracks, and pleased the boy intensely by discussing the military position with him. The important matter was to hold the Prefect in check, and at the same time prevent a junction of his forces from San Juan with the men in the Inca camp. These latter were probably now on the move, though they, like the Prefect, might be holding back through alarm at the exaggerated reports brought to them by any fugitives who had retreated in that direction. To save their face, runaways always overstate the numbers of the force that has discomfited them.
The fortunes of the Mollendists were decidedly in the ascendant. Their numbers, it was true, were still much inferior to those at the Prefect's disposal; but a few hours had already worked wonders, and time was in their favour--if the time were not too long drawn out. Recruits would no doubt continue to flock in: Mollendo's would be regarded as the winning side; but it was necessary to keep the machine in motion. If once the impetus due to the recent successes was lost, there would be a tendency to run back in the opposite direction.
Mr. O'Hagan decided to hold the crossroads, three miles west of his own house, with a force sufficient to prevent the advance of the enemy from the Inca camp, and to employ the greater part of his troops in defending the defile on the San Juan road.
"You will take command at the crossroads, Tim," he said. "Keep watch on those fellows from the north; if they try to force a passage, either this way or to San Juan, prevent them. But sit tight; don't go adventuring, and don't force an action if the enemy are quiet. I may need you at any moment to reinforce me against the Prefect. We have the advantage at present. The Prefect's two forces are separated by fifty miles of hills; we hold the only practicable routes; to effect a junction they'll have to make a detour of a hundred miles or more. You and I will be within touch, and can work together. My plan is to beat the enemy in detail--just as you have done, my boy."
"Inherited instinct, Father," said Tim with a sly look.
Mr. O'Hagan laughed.
"I don't know what your mother would say," he remarked. "Mollendo is sure to send his wife word of his new dignity. You'd better write a note for your mother to go with mine and the President's. Don't say too much: all that she really wants to know is that you are safe. The rest won't interest her."
"I'm not so sure of that," Tim thought.
CHAPTER XIX
PARDO SCORES A TRICK
Before putting his plans in action, Mr. O'Hagan went to the gobernador's house (now styled the Palace of Liberty) to lay them before Señor Mollendo. He supposed that the President, preoccupied with the administrative business of the infant republic, would cease to concern himself with the details of the campaign. A surprise awaited him. Mollendo approved his plans, but said that he would himself accompany the main force. His presence and his eloquence were, he thought, indispensable to success.
"Moreover, general," he said blandly, "since your son, with commendable modesty, has declined the colonel's commission which I offered him, it will be necessary for form's sake to appoint an officer of that rank to command the second army. I recommend for that honourable post Señor Zegarra, a gentleman of proved loyalty, upon whom I have just conferred a colonel's commission."
Mr. O'Hagan was annoyed. Señor Zegarra, the second of the trio who had formed the deputation to Tim, was a retired architect, with no military experience. Still, he was an amiable man, and Mr. O'Hagan hoped by a little judicious and tactful handling to prevent any interference with his plans.
Tim laughed heartily when his father returned and told him of the President's action.
"Old Moll means to be boss," he said.
"Old meddler!" grumbled Mr. O'Hagan. "However, it can't be helped. I'll get Zegarra to make you chief of staff, and if you go gently with him you can see that he doesn't upset the apple-cart."
Tim was secretly not ill-pleased at the change. It would give him, he hoped, greater freedom of action. As commander of the force he would have been tied to it. He could not leave his men. And since he had already made up his mind to fetch the petrol cans which he had concealed in the shrubbery, and make use of the motor-bicycle again, he needed no consolation for being superseded.
Mr. O'Hagan made a point of seeking out old Pedro Galdos, and thanking him for arranging his escape from prison. Knowing that the caballero, poor as he was, would disdain a pecuniary reward, Mr. O'Hagan had hit upon a more excellent way. He asked him to accept the appointment of commissary-general to the forces, taking care to couch the offer in the flowery terms that a Peruvian loves. Galdos accepted with dignity, straightened his shrunken old frame, and went off to harass all the provision dealers in the town.
In the afternoon the two forces rode out, Mr. O'Hagan and the President at the head of about 350 men, Tim and Señor Zegarra with 150, including his Japanese. These were on foot; all the rest were mounted. Mr. O'Hagan marched towards San Juan, Tim to the cross-roads north of the town. On reaching his post, carrying out his father's instructions, he set his men to throw up a light earthwork at the intersection, and rendered the woods on each side impassable by an abattis. He sent a number of horsemen forward for several miles on both the eastern and western tracks, to watch for the enemy and give timely warning if they should approach from the Inca camp.
Señor Zegarra was, as Mr. O'Hagan had said, a very amiable gentleman; and when Tim, after the bivouac had settled down, announced that he wished to fetch his motor-bicycle, which might be useful in scouting, the new-made colonel gave a gracious approval. Tim was rather perplexed as to the best way to set about it. To begin with, he had no petrol; but that difficulty was easily solved. He picked out four of his most trusty Japanese, explained to them clearly where they would find the cans he had hidden, and sent them through his father's plantations to bring them in. They would also report what they could discover about the state of affairs at the house: he thought it scarcely likely that Pardo had ventured back again. It was probably deserted.
But, having the petrol, how could he bring back the motor-cycle? To walk to the cave would be a long and wearisome job: to ride seemed to mean that on returning he must leave the horse behind. He could not ride both horse and cycle. He might, of course, take horsemen with him, and leave his own steed with them; but the existence of the cave was known only to Romaña and two others, and he thought it would be as well to keep the secret which was not his own. But before the Japanese returned laden with the petrol cans he had solved the problem. He would ride out on horseback, carrying just enough petrol to last for the run, leave the horse with one of his vedettes some distance from the cave, and go on alone for the cycle. The horse could be brought back at leisure.
When the petrol arrived, he filled two flasks and slung them on his saddle-bow. The messengers reported that all was quiet at the house. It appeared to be locked up and uninhabited. Tim suspected that Pardo had been among the men who had fled from the town, and had very likely gone to San Juan to stir up the Prefect. The loss of the hacienda would be a stinging blow to him. Tim wondered what had become of old Biddy and the other servants, and made up his mind to take the first opportunity of finding out.
He set off, rode along his chain of vedettes, and halting at the man nearest the cave on the San Rosario side, dismounted and proceeded on foot. In a few minutes he returned on the cycle, much to the surprise of the vedette. Colonel Zegarra smiled paternally when he rode into the camp, and made a laughing allusion to the gobernador's ludicrous appearance on that historic occasion a few days before. To Tim it seemed to have happened weeks ago.
The little force was not provided with tents. Men and officers slept on saddle cloths, spread in glades among the trees. The situation was far from pleasant. The low ground was infested with mosquitoes and other insects, whose pertinacious attentions kept awake many more than those who were on sentry duty.
During the night Tim resolved to make a circular reconnaissance next morning, if there was no warning of the enemy's advance. On his cycle he could cover the ground much more rapidly than on horseback, and, with the zeal of a novice, he was eager to examine the paths minutely from a strategical point of view. He would go by the western and return by the eastern path, trusting to the speed of his machine if he came in touch with the enemy and were pursued.
Colonel Zegarra raised no objection when Tim diplomatically suggested the importance of obtaining a thorough knowledge of the ground. The nominal commander was in fact a figure-head, conscious of his own ignorance, and quite content to leave everything to his chief of staff, and to reap the credit of the successes which he hoped that energetic young man would gain.
Tim rode off immediately after breakfast. On the way he passed the vedettes strung out at intervals of about three miles, and leaving the last vedette behind, near the cave, sped on beside the river. The only serious risk he had to guard against until he reached the cross-track leading to the eastern path was the possibility of meeting a party of the enemy approaching from round a bend. In such a case he might have scant time to turn his machine; indeed, in many places he would have to dismount to do so, owing to the narrowness of the track. If this occurred on a rising gradient, he might be overtaken before he could get away. But he had all his wits about him, and reflected that after all the enemy, if they moved, would probably follow the more direct road past Durand's house.
He arrived at the spot where his father's party had halted while Romaña scouted along the cross-track. Turning to the right, he rode for some little distance along this track, then suddenly made up his mind to return to the river, approach a little nearer to the camp, and leaving the machine well hidden, climb up to the ridge and try to see what the enemy were doing. From the top there was an uninterrupted view for many miles. The climb proved an even stiffer business than he expected, and on gaining the summit, hot, out of breath, and with trembling legs, he was disgusted to find that the Inca camp was too distant for him to distinguish anything very clearly without the aid of field-glasses. He saw figures moving about in the enclosure, but there was no sign, on the track or in the camp itself, of any general movement. It was quite possible that the events of the past two days were still unknown there. The fugitives from the town would naturally have turned towards San Juan, which was nearer than the Inca camp, and much more easily accessible. But the lack of communication between the camp and San Rosario struck Tim, raw hand though he was, as evidence of astonishing neglect of ordinary military precautions.
Returning to his machine, Tim rode along the cross-track, reversing the direction of his night escape, which already seemed ancient history. He was careful to profit by the screen of trees on his left hand, and so keep out of sight from the spot where Mollendo's scouts had been posted; and he approached the fork warily. There was no one in sight, either up or down the eastern track. He wheeled to the right, and rode on towards his own camp at the cross-roads.
Only once before had he travelled this part of the track on his cycle--when he returned home after being ransomed. He remembered how difficult he had found it, both when riding down, and when marching up with his captors. It was uneven, tortuous, and with many gradients. Its general tendency was downhill, but here and there it rose so steeply that, in spite of the power of his engine, he had to alight and push the machine. At similar descents he had some trouble in holding it in with his brakes, and where the track twisted and ran downhill at the same time, for safety's sake he dismounted again, and found that wheeling down was even more difficult than pushing up. But the worst was over when he arrived within about three miles of Durand's house. From this point the track ran almost uninterruptedly downhill, and was fairly smooth, and he sped along gaily at the rate of sixty miles an hour.
A downward run of about a mile brought him to the wooden footbridge spanning a deep fissure that cut across the track. For two hundred yards above the bridge the machine was quite beyond control; even a slight rise in the last fifty yards failed to check his speed appreciably. He dashed on to the rough timbers at a force that made him tremble for the framework of the cycle, and not until he was fifty yards up the gentle gradient on the farther side was he able to reduce his speed to a reasonable rate.
"I must have been going a tremendous lick that time," he thought, after these breathless moments. "Wonder I didn't come a cropper!"
When he reached Durand's house he decided to call and ask whether Felipe had obtained his father's consent to join the President's forces. He came away with what is colloquially termed "a flea in his ear." Señor Durand met him at the door, refused to let him see Felipe, and bundled him off as if he were a tramp. The gentleman acted very conscientiously on the old maxim that you go safest in the middle. He had subscribed to the funds of both factions impartially, and having no faith in the power of either to maintain a permanent superiority he bluntly declined to allow his son to take any part in the struggle. Tim, as he turned away, caught sight of his friend looking at him disconsolately from a window, and with a grimace which meant "Rotten bad luck, old man!" he resumed his ride.
It was early afternoon when he arrived in camp. He made a formal report to his amiable chief, whose wife and daughters had come out to admire him in his new role. Several other townspeople were chatting with their friends. Tim was very hungry after his long outing, and extricating himself from the flattering attentions of the ladies, he went away to get something to eat. Everything had been quiet during his absence. Galdos had brought a fresh supply of provisions. No news had been received from Mr. O'Hagan.
After a good meal Tim, finding that there was nothing to do except talk to the ladies, whom he thought quite out of place in a military camp, decided to ride over to his house, see for himself what his messengers had reported on the previous evening, and get a much-needed change of clothes. It was only three miles away. Leaving the cycle to be cleaned by one of the Japanese, he mounted a horse and set off. He found the house apparently deserted. The garden was trampled; the place had already taken on the signs of neglect; doors and windows were closed, and the shattered glass of the patio entrance had been replaced by boards.
Tim wondered what had become of the household. The mestizo servants had possibly taken, shelter with friends in the town; perhaps old Biddy Flanagan had sought a refuge with Señora Pereira. He tied his horse to a post and tried the front door. It was locked. Going round to the back, he found that the window of his bedroom had not been fastened. He opened it and climbed in. As he passed through the room into the patio he fancied he heard a slight sound somewhere in the house: but after listening for a moment decided that he was mistaken. All the same he moved on tiptoe, feeling an unaccountable nervousness.
He went from the patio into the corridor, glancing through the open doors into the rooms as he passed. They appeared to be just as they were left, except that the table in the dining-room was cleared. He came to the office. The door was shut, but not locked. He opened it and went in. The first thing that caught his eye was the safe, open and empty. Then he noticed a hole in the floor. The matting had been taken up, and two or three of the boards removed. At the edge of the hole lay a quantity of plate, some silver ornaments from the dining-room, the ormolu clock from the drawing-room, several porcelain vases, and other articles of more or less value.
All this he took in at a glance. Before he had time even to guess at the explanation of the strange scene there was a rush from behind the door, and he found himself grasped from the rear by two men. He tried to wrench himself away, dragging his captors about the room. It was useless to cry for help; he wished he had brought somebody with him. He managed to get one of his arms free, and twisting himself round, hit out at the man now in front of him, whom he did not recognise. There was some satisfaction in knowing that the fellow would have a black eye. But at this moment the other man flung a cloak over his head. With his one free hand he tried to tear it away, but it was drawn tighter and tighter across his mouth. His arm was caught again; he gasped for breath; his struggles became feebler; and by and by he lost consciousness.
When he came to himself, with a racking pain in his head, he found himself on the floor, gagged and securely bound. Pardo, now alone, was bundling the valuables together. Tim watched him as he corded them in a strip of canvas. In a moment Pardo glanced at him, and seeing his eyes open, smiled, and began to talk, while still going on with his occupation.
[image]THE HOLE IN THE FLOOR
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THE HOLE IN THE FLOOR
"Buenos dias, señor capitan," he said with a sarcastic intonation. "This is a little surprise, is it not? Not very pleasant; no. But strange as it may seem to you at this moment, I bear you no ill will personally. Your brigand father, to be sure, has treated me abominably. He has insulted the honour of a Peruvian gentleman, and that is an offence which, as you know, is frequently, and justly, avenged with blood. But you!--you are just a foolish boy; your impulses run away with you, and one is naturally lenient to the indiscretions of youth."
He paused while straining at the cord, then resumed:
"But one has to consider the public interest; and in fulfilment of my public duty I have felt it necessary to put a check upon your personal freedom. Having already had experience of similar restraint, you will no doubt be able to take your present condition with philosophic equanimity. If I am not mistaken, you owed your release on the former occasion to the payment of a ransom. Well, events sometimes repeat themselves. That lies in the discretion of his excellency the Prefect, whom I am about to join; he shall decide what to do with his prisoner."
Here he tied the last knot and stood erect, looking down at Tim with a sardonic grin that made his blood boil.
"But it would be inconvenient to take you with me," Pardo went on. "We might meet some of your bandit friends, who would probably jump to rash conclusions. Having a careful regard for your safety, I must leave you here, but I trust your solitude will not be protracted. In the public interest I ought perhaps to shoot you; but perhaps your market price now exceeds £250; you may be more valuable alive than dead. That thought will console you during your enforced seclusion. There is one little difficulty which it would be wrong not to mention. If any misadventure should befall me on my way to the Prefect, the secret of your hiding-place will be lost. That would be very regrettable, but I must ask you to consider that the responsibility will lie with your friends the brigands."
At this moment the second man entered.
"Is all ready?" asked Pardo.
"Yes; I have secured the horse."
"Very well. Oblige me by pulling up another board."
The man wrenched up the plank. Then the two lifted Tim, and bundled him into the cavity like a sack.
"A reveder, señor capitan," Pardo called through the hole.
The boards were replaced. Tim was in darkness. For some minutes he heard the men moving about above him, and the faint sound of laughter. Then their feet dragged heavily on the floor: no doubt they were removing the bundle. The footsteps died away; and Tim was left in solitude and silence.
The cavity into which Tim had been thrown had been excavated for the sake of keeping the rooms above dry, and extended beneath the house from end to end. It was not a pleasant place. The ground was damp; the atmosphere was stuffy; air could enter only by one narrow grating. Its humidity and the sub-tropical heat favoured the multiplication of innumerable insects, and Tim had not been there many minutes before the voracious creatures discovered him and began to make the most of their opportunity and their victim's helplessness. They crawled over his hands, up his sleeves, upon his face, into his hair. He did his best by shaking his head and twitching his features to rid himself of the tormenting pests; but they pricked and stung with great determination and vigour, and he was soon in pain and distress.
If only he could have removed the gag he would not have felt so utterly helpless. Not that shouting would have been of any use in an empty house, but the power to groan would have seemed a luxury. And when by and by he fancied that he heard shuffling footsteps about the house, he struggled in his bonds until he felt bruised and lacerated. All was in vain. His head began to ache; ideas the most incongruous jostled in his feverish brain. He tried to collect himself and keep his mind fixed; but he could not control his thoughts. Recollections of the Black Hole of history came to harass him, and in alarm and terror lest he should wholly lose his wits he strained his muscles to the uttermost. The effort exhausted him, and presently he fell into a dull stupor, in which he was conscious of nothing.
CHAPTER XX
PARDO LOSES A TRICK
At a late hour that night a rather weary horseman rode into the Prefect's camp, a few miles beyond the defile which Mr. O'Hagan was holding with his 400 men. News of the Mollendist extravagances in San Rosario having reached San Juan, the Prefect with a sudden burst of energy moved out with a motley force of 1500, and established himself on the hills in readiness to force the passage next day. The horseman sought out the Prefect's quarters, in a sheltered glade some distance from the track, and was checked every few yards by sentries demanding the countersign. The Prefect was always very careful that all proper precautions were taken for the safeguard of his person.
Pardo was rather annoyed by these frequent interruptions. He was very tired. The roundabout route which he had been forced to take by the presence of the enemy across the road had kept him for many hours in the saddle. He had hidden the loot from his late master's house; but, like all traitors, he did not trust the man who had assisted him, and almost wished that he had not left the spoils and his friend behind. But, knowing the kind of men who formed the bulk of the Prefect's army, he had prudently decided not to bring valuables within their reach and expose them to temptation.
He came to the last of the chain of sentries, and requested an interview with the Prefect.
"His excellency is asleep, señor," said the man dubiously. "It is very late."
"Tell his excellency that Señor Miguel Pardo desires to see him," returned Pardo with impatience.
The man durst not leave his post, but summoned a comrade, who conveyed the message.
"His excellency cursed and declined to see you until the morning, señor," said the man on his return.
Now, so far as Pardo knew, there was no need for haste. He had taken great care to gag and bind Tim very thoroughly. He had left the house locked up and the windows fastened, and even if anybody should break in, it was unlikely that the hiding-place beneath the floor of the office would be suspected and the prisoner discovered. But Pardo was eager to conclude a scheme which he had ingeniously concocted. He had also a rather exaggerated notion of his importance. So he sent the messenger back again, to say that he had something of great moment to communicate, and begged the Prefect to see him at once.
After a little delay he was admitted to his excellency, whom he found reclining on a camp bed in the open air; tents were not required in this rainless region.
"What is this important matter that justifies the disturbance of my rest?" asked the Prefect, rather haughtily.
"I regret the necessity, excellency," said Pardo, "but I think when you have heard me you will consider me justified."
"Well, say on."
"Your excellency would no doubt be glad to be rid of the man O'Hagan and his boy?"
"Caramba! I agree with you. Without them the brigands would be easily dealt with, and this ridiculous republic would tumble like a house of cards. You have some plan?"
"I have, excellency; but I beg you not to demand particulars. I have means of getting rid of them both. It has cost me a great deal of labour and not a little danger."
"Name your price," said the Prefect impatiently. "And I warn you to be moderate, for this expedition is draining me."
"It will not cost you a peseta, excellency. All that I ask is that you will bestow on me, free of taxes, the full ownership of O'Hagan's hacienda."
"Por Dios! That is your idea of moderation! The hacienda produces several thousand pounds a year. Not cost me a peseta, indeed! You are presumptuous, señor."
"What I shall do is worth the price, excellency. O'Hagan has great military capacity. The Mollendist cause is gaining ground. A single reverse will break up your army, and even if you win you will have endless trouble while the Inglés is at large."
The Prefect reflected. He had reckoned on making a large income out of Mr. O'Hagan's estate. He might still do so, even if he acceded to Pardo's terms. What he gave he could also take away. When the insurrection had been scotched, he could squeeze Pardo until he became troublesome, and then confiscate the property a second time. After a show of hesitation he agreed to the proposal, and did not demur when Pardo asked him to sign his name to a paper with which the man with admirable forethought had come provided.
Pardo took his leave. He might now have thought himself justified in seeking repose, but impatient greed still urged him on. He mounted his horse, rode through the lines, and did not halt until he had reached the Mollendist outposts, whom he approached under a flag of truce. It was perhaps fortunate that they were not Mr. O'Hagan's Japanese workmen. It was fortunate, too, that he did not encounter Romaña. He was taken to Mr. O'Hagan, who lacked the luxury of a camp bed: his couch was a bundle of straw.
"It's you, is it?" said Mr. O'Hagan dryly, as he recognised his visitor. "Going to turn traitor again?"
Pardo bit his lips; there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes. But he curbed his anger: he was a man of policy.
"I have the honour to inform you, señor," he said coldly, "that your son is a prisoner."
Mr. O'Hagan went pale. This was an unexpected blow. But he said nothing.
"The Prefect is, as you are aware, not so complaisant as the brigand Mollendo," Pardo continued. "He will not release the boy for a paltry £250. He will not accept any sum as ransom for so mischievous a rebel."
He paused, as a cat releases a mouse for a moment, for the pleasure, it would seem, of prolonging its victim's agony.
"What have you come here for?" cried Mr. O'Hagan impetuously. "Merely to harass me, you----"
He checked himself. It was no good abusing the man.
"I come to make a proposal," said Pardo. "Your son is at present my prisoner; it rests with you whether I hand him over to the Prefect, and then!..." He expressed his meaning by a gesture. "Or whether he is released, and allowed to rejoin you. My terms are quite simple, but absolutely unconditional. They are not open to discussion. You will make a formal assignment of your estate to me; you will then leave the country. Your son's life depends on your prompt acceptance."
Mr. O'Hagan sprang up.
"What is to prevent me from shooting you, you villain?" he cried, overmastered by his rage.
Pardo shrank from him. He felt a chill run down his spine like a trickle of cold water. But he recovered himself in a moment.
"The honour of an Englishman will prevent you," he said with an air of assurance. "Besides, if I die, your son dies. Nobody but myself and one other knows where he is. He will starve!"
Mr. O'Hagan shivered. Pardo quailed before his blazing eyes. For a moment there was silence; then Mr. O'Hagan, putting a restraint upon himself, said:
"If I assign my estate to you----"
"Discussion is mere waste of time," Pardo interposed. "The conditions are peremptory. You must not only assign your estate to me but leave the country. That is final."
"Go away," said Mr. O'Hagan.
"I cannot go without an answer."
"I will send for you--presently, when I have made up my mind--in a few minutes."
Pardo withdrew, lit a cigarette, and strolled up and down. He felt very confident, and flattered himself on his astuteness. He was by no means so sure of the success of the Prefect's arms as he had professed in his interview with that gentleman, even if Mr. O'Hagan were out of the way. The Mollendists were growing in number; Mollendo had made a clever move in declaring for a republic, and the loyalty of the Prefect's troops hung by a very slender thread. Pardo had schemed to secure possession of the estate in any event. But it was necessary to get rid of Mr. O'Hagan. Mollendo, if he gained the upper hand, might in O'Hagan's absence respect the assignment. He was a stickler for law. But the Prefect would certainly not do so unless his enemy were removed. Pardo considered that he had played his cards well.
Mr. O'Hagan was in a cruel predicament. He could not doubt Pardo's story. He would willingly have given up his estate to save Tim's life, but could he also desert the cause which he had taken up? His honour was engaged. He paced up and down the bare space in front of his couch: the sight of the red end of Pardo's cigarette a few yards away filled him with bitter anger. He knew that he must yield. With Tim's life and his own honour in the balance, there was no doubt which would outweigh the other. He was too proud to consult Señor Mollendo. The dilemma must be solved by himself alone. He could only make up his mind, go to the President, and confess that every other consideration--wealth, success, honour--must give way before the danger of his only son.
Out of the darkness Romaña came up to him.
"A despatch from Colonel Zegarra, señor," he said. "The courier waits for a reply."
Pardo saw Romaña, flung his cigarette away, and effaced himself among the trees. Mr. O'Hagan took the envelope, and tearing it open mechanically, read the few lines it contained. And then Romaña was amazed to find his hand grasped and shaken vigorously.
"He's safe, Nicolas!" said Mr. O'Hagan, working his arm up and down like a pump-handle. "My boy's safe!"
"Señor!"
"Go and kick that villain out," cried Mr. O'Hagan, recollecting himself.
"Señor, I don't understand!"
"Pardo! He's over there. Bring him to me."
Romaña followed the indication of his outstretched hand, and came back with Pardo, who, watching the scene, had been invaded by a vague uneasiness.
"Go and hang yourself; that's my answer," said Mr. O'Hagan, turning his back on the startled man. "See him safe out," he called over his shoulder to Romaña. "If the Japs get hold of him they'll throttle him."
And Pardo, feeling with a sinking heart that something had gone amiss, was escorted by Romaña to the outskirts of the camp.
Mr. O'Hagan read again the brief despatch. It was in Colonel Zegarra's writing.