CHAPTER XIX
PARDO SCORES A TRICK
Before putting his plans in action, Mr. O'Hagan went to the gobernador'shouse (now styled the Palace of Liberty) to lay them before SenorMollendo. He supposed that the President, preoccupied with theadministrative business of the infant republic, would cease to concernhimself with the details of the campaign. A surprise awaited him.Mollendo approved his plans, but said that he would himself accompanythe main force. His presence and his eloquence were, he thought,indispensable to success.
"Moreover, general," he said blandly, "since your son, with commendablemodesty, has declined the colonel's commission which I offered him, itwill be necessary for form's sake to appoint an officer of that rank tocommand the second army. I recommend for that honourable post SenorZegarra, a gentleman of proved loyalty, upon whom I have just conferreda colonel's commission."
Mr. O'Hagan was annoyed. Senor Zegarra, the second of the trio who hadformed the deputation to Tim, was a retired architect, with no militaryexperience. Still, he was an amiable man, and Mr. O'Hagan hoped by alittle judicious and tactful handling to prevent any interference withhis plans.
Tim laughed heartily when his father returned and told him of thePresident's action.
"Old Moll means to be boss," he said.
"Old meddler!" grumbled Mr. O'Hagan. "However, it can't be helped. I'llget Zegarra to make you chief of staff, and if you go gently with himyou can see that he doesn't upset the apple-cart."
Tim was secretly not ill-pleased at the change. It would give him, hehoped, greater freedom of action. As commander of the force he wouldhave been tied to it. He could not leave his men. And since he hadalready made up his mind to fetch the petrol cans which he had concealedin the shrubbery, and make use of the motor-bicycle again, he needed noconsolation for being superseded.
Mr. O'Hagan made a point of seeking out old Pedro Galdos, and thankinghim for arranging his escape from prison. Knowing that the caballero,poor as he was, would disdain a pecuniary reward, Mr. O'Hagan had hitupon a more excellent way. He asked him to accept the appointment ofcommissary-general to the forces, taking care to couch the offer in theflowery terms that a Peruvian loves. Galdos accepted with dignity,straightened his shrunken old frame, and went off to harass all theprovision dealers in the town.
In the afternoon the two forces rode out, Mr. O'Hagan and the Presidentat the head of about 350 men, Tim and Senor Zegarra with 150, includinghis Japanese. These were on foot; all the rest were mounted. Mr.O'Hagan marched towards San Juan, Tim to the cross-roads north of thetown. On reaching his post, carrying out his father's instructions, heset his men to throw up a light earthwork at the intersection, andrendered the woods on each side impassable by an abattis. He sent anumber of horsemen forward for several miles on both the eastern andwestern tracks, to watch for the enemy and give timely warning if theyshould approach from the Inca camp.
Senor Zegarra was, as Mr. O'Hagan had said, a very amiable gentleman;and when Tim, after the bivouac had settled down, announced that hewished to fetch his motor-bicycle, which might be useful in scouting,the new-made colonel gave a gracious approval. Tim was rather perplexedas 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 mosttrusty Japanese, explained to them clearly where they would find thecans he had hidden, and sent them through his father's plantations tobring them in. They would also report what they could discover aboutthe state of affairs at the house: he thought it scarcely likely thatPardo had ventured back again. It was probably deserted.
But, having the petrol, how could he bring back the motor-cycle? Towalk to the cave would be a long and wearisome job: to ride seemed tomean that on returning he must leave the horse behind. He could notride 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 wasknown only to Romana and two others, and he thought it would be as wellto keep the secret which was not his own. But before the Japanesereturned laden with the petrol cans he had solved the problem. He wouldride 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 atleisure.
When the petrol arrived, he filled two flasks and slung them on hissaddle-bow. The messengers reported that all was quiet at the house. Itappeared to be locked up and uninhabited. Tim suspected that Pardo hadbeen among the men who had fled from the town, and had very likely goneto San Juan to stir up the Prefect. The loss of the hacienda would be astinging blow to him. Tim wondered what had become of old Biddy and theother servants, and made up his mind to take the first opportunity offinding out.
He set off, rode along his chain of vedettes, and halting at the mannearest the cave on the San Rosario side, dismounted and proceeded onfoot. In a few minutes he returned on the cycle, much to the surpriseof the vedette. Colonel Zegarra smiled paternally when he rode into thecamp, and made a laughing allusion to the gobernador's ludicrousappearance on that historic occasion a few days before. To Tim itseemed to have happened weeks ago.
The little force was not provided with tents. Men and officers slept onsaddle cloths, spread in glades among the trees. The situation was farfrom pleasant. The low ground was infested with mosquitoes and otherinsects, whose pertinacious attentions kept awake many more than thosewho were on sentry duty.
During the night Tim resolved to make a circular reconnaissance nextmorning, if there was no warning of the enemy's advance. On his cycle hecould cover the ground much more rapidly than on horseback, and, withthe zeal of a novice, he was eager to examine the paths minutely from astrategical point of view. He would go by the western and return by theeastern path, trusting to the speed of his machine if he came in touchwith the enemy and were pursued.
Colonel Zegarra raised no objection when Tim diplomatically suggestedthe importance of obtaining a thorough knowledge of the ground. Thenominal commander was in fact a figure-head, conscious of his ownignorance, and quite content to leave everything to his chief of staff,and to reap the credit of the successes which he hoped that energeticyoung man would gain.
Tim rode off immediately after breakfast. On the way he passed thevedettes strung out at intervals of about three miles, and leaving thelast vedette behind, near the cave, sped on beside the river. The onlyserious risk he had to guard against until he reached the cross-trackleading to the eastern path was the possibility of meeting a party ofthe enemy approaching from round a bend. In such a case he might havescant time to turn his machine; indeed, in many places he would have todismount to do so, owing to the narrowness of the track. If thisoccurred on a rising gradient, he might be overtaken before he could getaway. But he had all his wits about him, and reflected that after allthe enemy, if they moved, would probably follow the more direct roadpast Durand's house.
He arrived at the spot where his father's party had halted while Romanascouted along the cross-track. Turning to the right, he rode for somelittle distance along this track, then suddenly made up his mind toreturn to the river, approach a little nearer to the camp, and leavingthe machine well hidden, climb up to the ridge and try to see what theenemy were doing. From the top there was an uninterrupted view for manymiles. The climb proved an even stiffer business than he expected, andon gaining the summit, hot, out of breath, and with trembling legs, hewas disgusted to find that the Inca camp was too distant for him todistinguish anything very clearly without the aid of field-glasses. Hesaw figures moving about in the enclosure, but there was no sign, on thetrack or in the camp itself, of any general movement. It was quitepossible that the events of the past two days were still unknown there.The fugitives from the town would naturally have turned towards SanJuan, which was nearer than the Inca camp, and much more easilyaccessible. But the lack of communication between the camp and SanRosario struck Tim,
raw hand though he was, as evidence of astonishingneglect of ordinary military precautions.
Returning to his machine, Tim rode along the cross-track, reversing thedirection of his night escape, which already seemed ancient history. Hewas careful to profit by the screen of trees on his left hand, and sokeep 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 upor down the eastern track. He wheeled to the right, and rode on towardshis own camp at the cross-roads.
Only once before had he travelled this part of the track on hiscycle--when he returned home after being ransomed. He remembered howdifficult he had found it, both when riding down, and when marching upwith his captors. It was uneven, tortuous, and with many gradients.Its general tendency was downhill, but here and there it rose so steeplythat, in spite of the power of his engine, he had to alight and push themachine. At similar descents he had some trouble in holding it in withhis brakes, and where the track twisted and ran downhill at the sametime, for safety's sake he dismounted again, and found that wheelingdown was even more difficult than pushing up. But the worst was overwhen he arrived within about three miles of Durand's house. From thispoint the track ran almost uninterruptedly downhill, and was fairlysmooth, 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 footbridgespanning a deep fissure that cut across the track. For two hundredyards above the bridge the machine was quite beyond control; even aslight rise in the last fifty yards failed to check his speedappreciably. He dashed on to the rough timbers at a force that made himtremble for the framework of the cycle, and not until he was fifty yardsup the gentle gradient on the farther side was he able to reduce hisspeed to a reasonable rate.
"I must have been going a tremendous lick that time," he thought, afterthese breathless moments. "Wonder I didn't come a cropper!"
When he reached Durand's house he decided to call and ask whether Felipehad obtained his father's consent to join the President's forces. Hecame away with what is colloquially termed "a flea in his ear." SenorDurand met him at the door, refused to let him see Felipe, and bundledhim off as if he were a tramp. The gentleman acted very conscientiouslyon the old maxim that you go safest in the middle. He had subscribed tothe funds of both factions impartially, and having no faith in the powerof either to maintain a permanent superiority he bluntly declined toallow 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 resumedhis ride.
It was early afternoon when he arrived in camp. He made a formal reportto his amiable chief, whose wife and daughters had come out to admirehim in his new role. Several other townspeople were chatting with theirfriends. Tim was very hungry after his long outing, and extricatinghimself from the flattering attentions of the ladies, he went away toget something to eat. Everything had been quiet during his absence.Galdos had brought a fresh supply of provisions. No news had beenreceived from Mr. O'Hagan.
After a good meal Tim, finding that there was nothing to do except talkto 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 messengershad reported on the previous evening, and get a much-needed change ofclothes. It was only three miles away. Leaving the cycle to be cleanedby one of the Japanese, he mounted a horse and set off. He found thehouse apparently deserted. The garden was trampled; the place hadalready taken on the signs of neglect; doors and windows were closed,and the shattered glass of the patio entrance had been replaced byboards.
Tim wondered what had become of the household. The mestizo servants hadpossibly taken, shelter with friends in the town; perhaps old BiddyFlanagan had sought a refuge with Senora Pereira. He tied his horse toa post and tried the front door. It was locked. Going round to theback, he found that the window of his bedroom had not been fastened. Heopened it and climbed in. As he passed through the room into the patiohe fancied he heard a slight sound somewhere in the house: but afterlistening for a moment decided that he was mistaken. All the same hemoved on tiptoe, feeling an unaccountable nervousness.
He went from the patio into the corridor, glancing through the opendoors into the rooms as he passed. They appeared to be just as theywere left, except that the table in the dining-room was cleared. Hecame to the office. The door was shut, but not locked. He opened itand went in. The first thing that caught his eye was the safe, open andempty. Then he noticed a hole in the floor. The matting had been takenup, and two or three of the boards removed. At the edge of the hole laya quantity of plate, some silver ornaments from the dining-room, theormolu clock from the drawing-room, several porcelain vases, and otherarticles of more or less value.
All this he took in at a glance. Before he had time even to guess atthe explanation of the strange scene there was a rush from behind thedoor, and he found himself grasped from the rear by two men. He triedto wrench himself away, dragging his captors about the room. It wasuseless to cry for help; he wished he had brought somebody with him. Hemanaged to get one of his arms free, and twisting himself round, hit outat the man now in front of him, whom he did not recognise. There wassome 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 hisone free hand he tried to tear it away, but it was drawn tighter andtighter across his mouth. His arm was caught again; he gasped forbreath; his struggles became feebler; and by and by he lostconsciousness.
When he came to himself, with a racking pain in his head, he foundhimself on the floor, gagged and securely bound. Pardo, now alone, wasbundling the valuables together. Tim watched him as he corded them in astrip of canvas. In a moment Pardo glanced at him, and seeing his eyesopen, smiled, and began to talk, while still going on with hisoccupation.
THE HOLE IN THE FLOOR]
"Buenos dias, senor capitan," he said with a sarcastic intonation."This is a little surprise, is it not? Not very pleasant; no. Butstrange as it may seem to you at this moment, I bear you no ill willpersonally. Your brigand father, to be sure, has treated me abominably.He has insulted the honour of a Peruvian gentleman, and that is anoffence which, as you know, is frequently, and justly, avenged withblood. But you!--you are just a foolish boy; your impulses run awaywith 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 mypublic duty I have felt it necessary to put a check upon your personalfreedom. Having already had experience of similar restraint, you willno doubt be able to take your present condition with philosophicequanimity. If I am not mistaken, you owed your release on the formeroccasion to the payment of a ransom. Well, events sometimes repeatthemselves. 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 asardonic grin that made his blood boil.
"But it would be inconvenient to take you with me," Pardo went on. "Wemight meet some of your bandit friends, who would probably jump to rashconclusions. Having a careful regard for your safety, I must leave youhere, but I trust your solitude will not be protracted. In the publicinterest I ought perhaps to shoot you; but perhaps your market price nowexceeds L250; you may be more valuable alive than dead. That thoughtwill console you during your enforced seclusion. There is one littledifficulty which it would be wrong not to mention. If any misadventureshould befall me on my way to the Prefect, the secret of yourhiding-place will be lost. That would be very regrettable, but I mustask you to consider that the responsibility will lie with your friendsthe brigands."
At this moment the second man entered.
"Is all ready?" asked Pardo.
"Yes; I have secured the h
orse."
"Very well. Oblige me by pulling up another board."
The man wrenched up the plank. Then the two lifted Tim, and bundled himinto the cavity like a sack.
"_A reveder_, senor capitan," Pardo called through the hole.
The boards were replaced. Tim was in darkness. For some minutes heheard the men moving about above him, and the faint sound of laughter.Then their feet dragged heavily on the floor: no doubt they wereremoving the bundle. The footsteps died away; and Tim was left insolitude and silence.
The cavity into which Tim had been thrown had been excavated for thesake of keeping the rooms above dry, and extended beneath the house fromend to end. It was not a pleasant place. The ground was damp; theatmosphere was stuffy; air could enter only by one narrow grating. Itshumidity and the sub-tropical heat favoured the multiplication ofinnumerable insects, and Tim had not been there many minutes before thevoracious creatures discovered him and began to make the most of theiropportunity and their victim's helplessness. They crawled over hishands, up his sleeves, upon his face, into his hair. He did his best byshaking his head and twitching his features to rid himself of thetormenting pests; but they pricked and stung with great determinationand vigour, and he was soon in pain and distress.
If only he could have removed the gag he would not have felt so utterlyhelpless. Not that shouting would have been of any use in an emptyhouse, but the power to groan would have seemed a luxury. And when byand by he fancied that he heard shuffling footsteps about the house, hestruggled in his bonds until he felt bruised and lacerated. All was invain. His head began to ache; ideas the most incongruous jostled in hisfeverish brain. He tried to collect himself and keep his mind fixed;but he could not control his thoughts. Recollections of the Black Holeof history came to harass him, and in alarm and terror lest he shouldwholly lose his wits he strained his muscles to the uttermost. Theeffort exhausted him, and presently he fell into a dull stupor, in whichhe was conscious of nothing.