Read Where Strongest Tide Winds Blew Page 12


  XII.

  COWARDLY ACT OF A VILLAIN.

  "Don Juan! Ah, Don Juan! Something dreadful! Felicita!" cried Chico ashe burst into my room breathless near midnight.

  "What is it?" I demanded, "quick, I say," but he could only gasp"Felicita!"

  I hurried to the stable and saddled my horse, Chico following. Werode with all haste to the home of Don Julian. Everything was inuproar. The Indian servants moaned and cried, and pointed in thedirection of the road leading to the cemetery. Thither I rode, fastas my horse could run. It was a lonely road, with few houses by thewayside and those were mostly Indian huts. It was nearly oneo'clock in the morning, no one to be seen--on and on I went. I couldsee a dark outline of what I thought must be a vehicle of some kind.As carriages are seldom used in Arequipa, I concluded that thismust be bearing Felicita away. I drove the spurs harder and leanedforward, peering into the darkness. I was gaining rapidly. I wascertain now that it was Felicita, for they were driving at fullspeed. I never thought how I was to rescue her, my whole purposebeing to catch up with that villain. Just then the moon shone brightfrom behind a cloud and lighted up the scene. The occupants of thecarriage now knew they were being pursued, and they stopped. I couldplainly see two men unhitch two horses from behind the carriage. Theytook Felicita from the carriage and were forcing her to mount when,suddenly, her horse became unmanageable, and she fell to theground. By this time I was close upon them, and called to Felicita tobe brave, but the poor girl never heard me, for she was unconscious.Don Rodrigo stopped, as if determined to resist me. Would to Godhe had! But he put spurs to his horse and fled. I shot at him, butas the distance was great, and the light uncertain, the bulletwent wide of the mark. I soon forgot him on reaching Felicita, asshe lay with an ugly cut on her head caused by striking thecarriage step when she fell. There lay my child-friend, unconscious.She was dressed for retiring, her other clothes being in thecarriage. My first impulse was to pursue the accursed scoundreland avenge the insult to Felicita, but I could not leave her there.I took her in my arms and carried her to a near-by Indian hutwhere, after some parley with the poor, superstitious Indians, thedoor was opened, and I laid my burden on some sheepskins on thefloor. Her hands were cold and she appeared to be dead.

  By this time, Chico arrived and brought her clothes from the carriage.I staunched the flow of blood with my handkerchief, while Chicoprepared some hot native liquor, which I put to her lips. After atime, she opened her eyes, but did not know me. I called and calledher name, but it was long before consciousness returned. When she didrecognize me, a look of love and happiness passed over her face. Iwould not let her speak, but told her that when she was taken home,she could tell me all. The carriage driver had long since made hisescape, so I had sent to Arequipa and had a closed carriage brought,in which I took her home.

  Time dragged wearily until the return of her father. I remained by herside and with the assistance of the Indian servants, made her ascomfortable as possible. I had been without sleep so long that I hadgone into the parlor and laid down. I had just awakened from a sleepwhen Don Julian entered. Poor old man, he was overcome with grief. Heknew all, Felicita had told him. From him I learned how the abductionhad taken place. About 11 o'clock at night, Don Rodrigo had enteredthe bedroom and before she realized what was being done, Felicita hadbeen carried to the carriage in waiting. Leaving her in charge of thedriver, Don Rodrigo returned for her clothes. No sooner was his backturned than she screamed. This attracted the attention of Chico, whohad been enjoying a visit with Don Julian's Indian servants in thekitchen. He had run at full speed to inform me.

  It was the opinion of Don Julian that Don Rodrigo had intended takingthe child to some remote Indian habitation in the mountains, anddemanding a ransom for her.

  This was a plausible theory, for besides getting revenge for Felicitarefusing his hand in marriage, he would be able to extort money fromDon Julian, and also avenge his fancied wrongs at my hands.

  The following day Felicita was still weak and nervous. The doctoradvised that she be taken to the sea coast for a time. She protested,saying she was getting stronger, but I knew she was only saying it tocheer her father and myself. I could plainly see her condition wasprecarious. After a long consultation with the doctors, Don Juliandecided he would take her to Truxillo, their former home. Afterconsiderable pleading, she consented to go. I was to follow when sherecovered.

  I accompanied them and their Indian servants aboard the steamer andremained aboard the little ferry boat, waving my handkerchief untilthey faded into the distance. I returned ashore, and although I hadnot been in Mollendo for some time, I had no desire to see my friends.I wanted to be alone.

  Weeks of dreary waiting followed. I was not myself. Anxiously I lookedfor a letter and with trembling hands I broke the seal. The letter wasdated Lima, and read: "Don Juan, I am crazy. Felicita is dead. Willwrite you all, when I am composed. Julian."

  Never was human being more distracted than I. Absenting myself fromeverybody night after night in deep ravines and valleys, among thelofty mountains that surrounded Arequipa, I wandered. Many an Indianno doubt looked upon me with superstitious awe, walking without caringwhither I went, like one demented. A second letter came stating thatthe death of Felicita was caused by a terrible cold she hadcontracted and the nervous shock suffered on the night of theabduction. Like his first, Don Julian's letter was brief. He said: "Iwill let you know where she is buried in my next, and I think I willnot be long after her."

  I concluded to go to Lima, but another letter, dated Truxillo, statedthat he had left Lima and would bury Felicita in Truxillo. I receivedno more missives. To go to Lima was useless, to go to Truxillo andperhaps not find him there, would not accomplish anything so I decidedto wait until I heard further news. I scarcely know how I passed mytime. Night after night I would go up town, play billiards and visitthe drinking places, always with the hope that I would meet DonRodrigo.

  I intended, when I heard from Don Julian to make a trip to Truxillo,visit the last resting place of Felicita, and perhaps remain in Lima,away from scenes that reminded me of the only happy time in myexistence, and its tragic ending. But circumstances over which I hadno control changed my plans.

  One night, as I was sitting alone in my room, a boy handed me atelegram. It was from the general manager of the railroad, saying toreport at his office at once and bring all the engine runners with me,and to enjoin absolute secrecy on the part of the men. I did asrequested, and now begins one of the most exciting adventures of mylife.