CHAPTER XIV
HIS FATHER'S HOUSE
Tim was not remarkable for patience. The morning and afternoon of thenext day passed too slowly for him. In the cave there was nothing todo; outside, his activity was circumscribed. He gave himself a bath inthe pool below the waterfall, then returned to the cave for hisbreakfast. The empty meat tin tempted him to set it up at one end ofthe cave as a target, and practise revolver-shooting. But recollectingthat the shape of this hiding-place might set up tell-talereverberations, he abandoned the idea, kicked the tin away, and by wayof doing something went for another bathe.
While he was still disporting in the water he heard footsteps in thedirection of the path, and scampered back lightly to the shelter of theleafy screen. Peering out somewhat anxiously, he saw an old Indianwoman filling a pitcher from the brook. She carried it across the trackamong the brushwood on the other side, and disappeared. Tim guessedthat she was one of the workers on Senor Durand's estate, which extendedfor several miles between the two paths from San Rosario. Some hourslater a Cholo youth walked up the track, carrying a fishing-net andbasket; he, no doubt, was going to the river to catch the family dinner.Except for these two, Tim saw no human being during the day. A numberof waterfowl settled on the stream when the sun was high, and he caughtglimpses of gaudy parrots occasionally; these were all the signs oflife.
He had promised Romana not to start too soon, and meant to keep hispromise. It was twelve miles to the spot where they had arranged tomeet, a walk of less than three or more than four hours according to thepace. Tim reasoned that by taking the longer period he would have moreopportunities for scouting, and could make up for any time lost if heshould have to conceal himself from passers-by. Accordingly he started,a full hour before he need have done. When once upon the path he forgothis intention to go slowly. He kept up a good swinging pace, thoughneglecting no precaution. In the plantations on his left hand he sawthe distant forms of several of Senor Durand's workers, but he metnobody on the path, and nobody overtook him.
When he arrived at the place agreed upon, it wanted still nearly twohours of sunset. Romana could not reach him for at least three hours,perhaps four or five if he brought petrol. Tim began to wish that hehad not been in such a hurry. The spot was a cross-road--the junctionof the path by which he had come with the track running northwards toSenor Durand's estate, with that running eastwards to his own home, andwith another going southwards and emerging into the main road from SanRosario to San Juan. There were trees all around, and Tim decided toclimb into one that gave him a partial view of all the tracks.
He had not been long settled in his perch when he heard on his left thesound of a horse trotting. Peering out through the foliage he presentlycaught sight of young Felipe Durand, riding alone towards the town.Tim, as we know, was impulsive; he often acted hastily, and sometimesrepented afterwards, though not so frequently as might have beenexpected. When his friend was within a few yards of him, he hailed himcautiously. Durand reined up with a start, and looked wonderingly abouthim.
"Where are you?" he said, in a tone little above a whisper.
"Here, up a tree," replied Tim.
"You _are_ up a tree!" said Durand.
"Don't be an ass. Ride in and tie your horse up. I'm coming down totalk to you. There's no one in sight."
Durand dismounted and led his horse some distance into the copse. ThereTim joined him.
"You are pretty mad," said Durand, "to come so close to the town. Whaton earth are you up to?"
"Romana has gone into the town to get some grub. We're very short upyonder."
"You'll be shot if you're caught. The Prefect is raging at yourfather's escape. He led the raid on Mollendo's camp, thinking to catchyou and your father there."
"He'd better go on raging," said Tim, with a grin. "What is happening,Durand?"
"He has sacked the gobernador, fined him L1000 and put him under arrest.He has promised L500 to the man who captures you or your father."
"My price has doubled, then! Where is he now?"
"He has gone back to San Juan. It's rumoured that as soon as he hasmade things secure there he's going to lead an expedition into thehills. He has sworn to smash the Mollendists, and he'll have no mercyon Mollendo or your father when he catches them."
"He should say 'if.' 'Ifs and ans are pots and pans; 'there's a bigdifference between 'if' and 'when'--and 'now' and 'never.' What do theysay in the town?"
"A good many people sympathise with you, but the Prefect has a strongparty, as you know; otherwise he wouldn't have left only a hundred menbehind. There's a big crowd in Mollendo's old camp."
"I know, and a very poor lot they are. What is happening at home?"
"Pardo is playing the tyrant. It's rather fun. He cleared out all yourold servants, except the Irishwoman. Old Biddy flatly refused to go,and I suppose he's afraid of being a laughing-stock in the town if hesends the gendarmes in with her."
"He has got gendarmes, then?"
"A dozen or so. He needs them. He has cut down wages all round,forbidden any of the workpeople to go into the town, and generallyplayed the fool. There was a row this morning. The Japs refused to goto work except on the old terms. The foreman went to see Pardo at thehouse, Pardo was insulting, and the Jap flew at his throat. Of coursehe had no chance with the gendarmes there. They collared him andmarched him into the town, and he'll have a bad time when the Prefectcomes back. Pardo's a fool. The Japs will bolt in a body if he isn'tcareful. They'll easily get work elsewhere, and he'll find it hard torun the plantations without them. But what are you doing here?"
"I'm waiting for Romana. He's coming out after dark."
"Well, take my advice and don't run any risks. By the way, how is yourmother? My mater was talking about her this morning."
"She's all right--out of harm's way. Old Mollendo is a funny old chap.He has made Father a general, and me a lieutenant."
"You don't mean to say that you have really joined his party?"
"Indeed we have."
"That's a mistake. The Prefect has got a real handle against you now.He'd be justified in shooting you."
"He must catch us first. You'll see something startling one of thesedays."
"I'm afraid I shall. Well, good-bye. I shan't say I've seen you, ofcourse. I'm going to dine with Dr. Pereira."
"You can tell him. He's a good sort. Good-bye; glad I met you."
Durand rode on, and Tim went back to his tree. But he had not sat theremore than a few minutes before a sudden impulse seized him to go himselfto the house. It was only three miles away; he would have plenty oftime to go there and back before Romana arrived. He might get somepetrol himself. Romana had the key of the outhouse; but Tim knew of acouple of loose boards at the back which he could easily remove and sogain entrance. He threw a glance along each of the paths; nobody was insight. Then he slipped down and hastened into the broken country thatlay between him and the cultivated ground. The hour was drawing nearfor the cessation of work on the plantations. He might reach theneighbourhood of the house without meeting any of the labourers. Evenif he did meet them, what Durand had said assured him that he need haveno fear of betrayal.
He made all possible haste. No fence separated the waste land from thecoffee plantations. In this region the coffee plants grew to an unusualheight, and he could safely make his way through them without having togo farther northward to the equally tall sugar-canes.
He met no one. In less than an hour he came to the rear of the privategrounds. A thick shrubbery enclosed the field on which he was accustomedto play cricket and lawn-tennis. To the left was the petrol shed.Between the field and the house were the kitchen garden and an orchard.
Tim made his way to the back of the shed. It was an easy matter to pullout the loose boards. He entered, took a can, and returning with it tothe shrubbery, hid it among the dense foliage near the spot where he had
emerged from the plantation. In the course of half an hour he had fourcans ready for removal. By this time dusk had fallen. He heard theclatter of crockery from the house. It was dinner time. Anuncontrollable desire seized him to look in upon Pardo at the meal.Carefully replacing the boards taken from the wall of the shed, heslipped quietly round by the shrubbery towards the end of the houseremote from the servants' quarters. There was now a light in thedining-room. He stole through the intervening orchard, crept to thewall of the house; then, going down on hands and knees, peeped over thewindow-sill.
The table was laid profusely; evidently, he thought, Pardo was "doinghimself well." The ex-bookkeeper had the head of the table; there weretwo guests, one of them the Captain Pierola who was to havesuperintended the execution of Mr. O'Hagan, the other Senor Fagasta'ssecretary. The men were on good terms with their fare and each other.They were chatting in high good temper, and Tim felt a flush of anger ashe saw how free they were making with his father's Burgundy. It was agood wine, used but sparingly by its owner; these Peruvians had alreadyemptied one bottle, and two more stood at Pardo's elbow.
Tim watched them for some minutes, conscious of a mad longing to rush inand break the bottles on their heads. But the night was deepening; itwas time to get back; and he pictured Romana's surprise when he met him,as he expected to do, coming through the plantation. Retracing hissteps as stealthily as he had approached, he returned to the shrubbery,took up one of the cans, and set off with it towards the rendezvous.
He had taken only a few steps, however, when he heard a sudden commotionfrom the front of the house. Men's voices were raised in angry cries.He halted, wondering what was happening. After a moment's hesitation,he ran back, dropped the can in the shrubbery, and again hastenednoiselessly to the house. Looking into the dining-room, he saw that itwas now empty; but the door leading into the patio was open, and throughit he caught sight of a group of gendarmes. At the same moment he heardthe crack of a whip, then a cry of pain, followed by howls of rage andthe crash of breaking glass.
The patio was brightly lit, but Tim's view of what was proceeding therewas intercepted by the backs of the gendarmes. Throbbing withexcitement, he ran to the side of the one-storeyed house, scrambled upthe wall by means of holes which he had once made when climbing for alost ball, and got upon the roof. A few steps more brought him to theedge of the open patio. Peeping over, he took in at a rapid glance adramatic situation. In the centre of the floor lay a Japanese workman,held down by two gendarmes, while Pardo belaboured him with a raw-hidewhip. In the veranda and on the lawn beyond there was a swarm of theJapanese labourers, howling with rage, brandishing bill-hooks, andpressing forward to the patio, the glass door of which had just beenshattered by the men nearest it. Within stood more gendarmes with fixedbayonets, and just as Tim arrived, Captain Pierola stepped forward andfired his revolver into the midst of the crowd. A man fell back amonghis comrades, shot to the heart. The cries were stilled; the throngdrew away out of the light; and Pardo went on with his thrashing.
Tim's first feeling was utter shame and indignant wrath. Then he had asudden inspiration. Rushing back to the wall, he shinned down with thespeed of a squirrel, ran round to the front, and dashing among the crowdof Japanese, who were standing in the darkness, enraged but irresolute,he called on them to follow him. They recognised him, hailed him with ashout of delight, and next moment the whole eighty were following him ina yelling horde back to the house.
He kept out of the light from the patio, until, as he expected, thegendarmes fired a scattered volley. Then springing on to the veranda,he discharged his revolver point-blank at Captain Pierola, and broughthim to the ground. The fall of their officer took the gendarmes aback.Before they could recover themselves, the Japanese burst into the patiowith a shout of triumph. The Peruvians did not await the cold steel oftheir flashing bill-hooks. Pardo had already dropped his whip and fled.The gendarmes flocked after him, across the patio, through the corridorand out at the main door towards the road to San Rosario. Not allescaped. The rearmost were swooped upon by the exultant Japanese, whotook an ample vengeance for the death of their comrade and the brutaltreatment of their foreman.
"Glory be!" said a voice from the rear of the patio, and Biddy Flanagancame hastily to greet Tim. "Is the master after coming back?"
"He is not, Biddy, but he and Mother are quite safe."
He turned to ask explanations of the recent scene. It appeared that theacting foreman had come to Pardo with an ultimatum from the whole bodyof Japanese, that unless he procured the instant release of the manimprisoned in the town they would at once quit the hacienda. Pardo,having drunk more than was good for him, forgot that he was not dealingwith the timid, spiritless Indians of the Peruvian Amazon. He orderedin the gendarmes, and proceeded to flog the man, in full view of thecrowd watching through the door of the patio. No doubt the Japanesewould have had the courage to storm the house even without Tim; but hisopportune arrival had quickened them with enthusiasm; they had theconfidence of men fighting in a cause doubly just.