The speaker stopped. All was still; save for the leaping waters of the torrent, no sound was to be heard. I glanced at Montilla: he was deathly pale, and on his forehead stood great beads of perspiration, which, with his bound hands, he was unable to wipe away.

"Shall I tell you who these men were?" asked Sorillo. "One is Don Eduardo Crawford; the others stand here," and he pointed to the prisoners. "Listen to your accomplice, Felipe Montilla, if you care to hear the story repeated."

Again Lurena gave his evidence glibly. I think he had no sense of shame, but only a strong desire to save his life. He might not have committed the deed for the sake of the money alone, he said, but he hated my father for having cast him into prison.

It was poor evidence on which to try a man for his life, yet no one doubted Montilla's guilt. There he stood with trembling limbs and ashen face—truly a wretched figure for a cavalier of Spain! His courage had broken down completely, and to all the questions put by his self-appointed judge he answered no word.

At length Sorillo asked his officers for their verdict, and with one consent they pronounced him "Guilty!"

"It is a true verdict," exclaimed Sorillo; "any other would be a lie.—And now, Felipe Montilla, listen to me for the last time. You have been proved a traitor to your country, and that alone merits death; but this other crime touches the members of the Silver Key more closely. When the great men of Peru called the Indians dogs, Don Eduardo was our friend. He took our side openly, encouraged us, sympathized with us, pitied us. And you tried to slay him! not in fair fight, mind you, and only because you coveted his possessions. For that you die within forty-eight hours, as surely as the sun will rise to-morrow!" And all his hearers applauded.

The condemned man still made no reply, uttered no appeal for mercy, but stood as one dazed. But I thought of the daughter who loved him so well, and sprang to my feet.

"Hear me!" I cried excitedly. "If Don Felipe has done wrong, it is against my father. Do you think he will thank you for killing his enemy? Is that his teaching? You know it is not; you know that he would forgive him freely—would beg his life from you on his bended knees. If you really love my father, if you feel that he deserves your gratitude, spare this man's life. If he has sinned he will repent. I have come here for him. Do not let me go back alone. Am I to say to my father, 'You are foolish in thinking the Indians care for you; they care nothing! I asked of them a boon in your name, and they refused it'? Raymon Sorillo, I appeal to you, give me this man's life for my father's sake!"

I looked at him earnestly, hoping to find a spark of mercy in his eyes. Alas, there was none! He was hard as iron, cold as ice; on that day, at least, there was no pity in him.

"You are foolish," said he; "you are like a child who cries for the moon. Set this man free and he will immediately begin his old games of deceit and trickery. He cannot help himself. It is his nature, as it is a spider's to weave its web. Your father's happiness depends on this traitor's death."

I heard him patiently, and then renewed my appeal. It was quite useless.

"Remove the prisoners," said he; and at a sign the troops marched off, the officers dispersed, and none save we two remained on the platform. For a long time neither spoke. I was thinking of Rosa anxiously awaiting my return. I had bidden her hope, and there was no longer any hope. I made no attempt to deceive myself in this respect. Sorillo would do much for me, but this one thing he would not do. I dreaded the thought of returning to Lima. What would Rosa say and do when she heard of her father's shameful death? Perhaps that part might be spared her; she need not learn the whole truth. I must invent some story which would save her the knowledge of his double treachery.

At last I turned to the chief, saying, "Will you allow me to speak with Don Felipe in private? He has a daughter at home; he may wish to send her a last message."

"He is not worth your kindness; but do as you please."

I thanked him, and walked toward the hut in which Don Felipe was confined. The sentry let me pass without protest, and opening the door I entered.

The sight before me was a pitiful one. The wretched prisoner sat on a wooden bench in the dreary hovel. His arms were bound, but he was free to walk about if he so wished. At the click of the latch he raised his head, but seeing me dropped it again quickly, as if ashamed to meet my gaze.

"Don Felipe," I began, "have you any message for your daughter?"

Instead of answering my question, he himself asked one.

"Will that brigand really put me to death?" he said.

"I am afraid so. I have begged hard for your life, but in vain."

Looking at me curiously, he exclaimed, "I cannot understand why you should wish to save me!"

"For Rosa's sake! When you were carried off, she came to me, and I promised if it were possible to bring you back with me."

"Then you do not believe the story you heard to-day, about—about—"

"My father? Yes, I believe it; but that is no reason why I should be unkind to Rosa. Poor girl! 'twill be hard enough for her to lose you."

"Is there no way of escape?"

I shook my head. "An armed sentry stands outside; a hundred soldiers are in the ravine; the path is closely watched. I would help you if it were possible."

"It will be dark to-night."

"That would help us little. Even if you escaped from the hut, you would be challenged at every dozen yards. No, I can see no way out."

I think that at this time he began to fully realize the danger he was in. He had a hunted look in his eyes, and again the perspiration stood on his forehead. Fear was fast killing shame, and he seemed to care nothing that I was the son of the man whom he had tried to murder.

"Juan," said he, "can't you make an excuse to visit me after dark?"

"I should think so," I replied.

"And will you cut these cords?"

"If you think it will help you at all."

"Leave that to me," said he, speaking almost hopefully. "By St. Philip, I shall escape the ruffian yet!"

What his plan was he did not tell me, but it seemed to please him greatly. He even laughed when I again mentioned Rosa, and said he would carry his message himself. And with hope there came back to him something of the old cunning and smoothness of speech for which he was so noted.

"I am sorry you were misled by that preposterous tale," said he softly. "Pardo Lurena is a villain, but we will unmask him. Of course, there was a little truth in his story, but so twisted and distorted that it could not be recognized. Your father will understand, however, and even you will come to see that I am not greatly to blame. A little thoughtlessness, Juan, and a desire to help a friend—no more; but that can wait. You will be sure to come, Juan; you will not fail me?"

"I will do my very best, Don Felipe, for your daughter's sake."

Wishing him farewell, I returned to the chief's hut. He was not there, so I lay down to think out the situation; but my head was in a hopeless muddle. I went into the ravine again, and, watching the soldiers, wondered how the unhappy prisoner hoped to escape them.

As it chanced, his plan was doomed to disappointment. Toward the end of the afternoon I stood chatting with Sorillo and some of his officers, when a messenger rode up the ravine. His horse had travelled far and fast, while he looked worn out with fatigue.

Springing to the ground, he saluted, while the chief cried, "What news, Sanchez? it should be worth hearing!"

"I think it is," replied the man, with a significant smile. "General Canterac is marching on Lima at the head of a Spanish army."

"How many men has he?"

"Nine thousand, perhaps ten—horse, foot, and guns. The advance-guard is not far off."

"Thanks, Sanchez.—Let the men assemble, Barros: a dozen to stay here, the rest to follow me. Has Cerdena sent word to Lima? Good. He knows his business.—Juan, you will just have time to ride clear, and not much to spare. No doubt Canterac has sent some of his troops by the near cut."

All was bustle and activity in the ravine. Officers issued commands, troopers saddled their horses, muskets were seen to, an extra supply of ammunition was served out, and in a very short time everybody save the few men left to guard the ravine was ready to march.

"What can your handful of men do against Canterac's army?" I asked Sorillo as we rode away.

"Not much beyond cutting off a few stragglers," he replied, smiling; "but we shall obtain information of which our leaders in Lima seem to stand badly in need."



CHAPTER XXII.

THE "SILVER KEY" AGAIN.

Since these events happened I have asked myself many times whether I did right or wrong, and even now I scarcely know how to decide. Those who blamed me said I was Sorillo's guest, and should not have abused his confidence. Others urged that I was bound, if possible, to prevent him putting a man to death unlawfully. All, however, agreed that none but a madman would have embarked on so preposterous an enterprise.

The idea occurred to me suddenly. The guerillas, split up into groups, had gone, some this way, some that, to watch the movements of the Royalist troops. Sorillo had kept me company till we cleared the pass, when he, too, with a word of farewell, rode away. It was now dusk, and, as the chief had truly said, there was no time to waste; yet I did not move. Right in my path, with outstretched arms and pitiful, beseeching face, stood Rosa Montilla. I knew it was but the outcome of a fevered brain; yet the vision seemed intensely real.

The girl's eyes looked at me reproachfully, her lips moved as if in speech. I fancied I could hear again her parting cry, "O Juan, save him!"

I asked myself impatiently what more could be done. I had tried my best and failed, and there was an end of it. Besides, the words of the chief rang in my ears in ominous warning: Don Felipe could not be trusted! To set him free was like giving liberty to a venomous snake; his hatred would now be all the more bitter in that he had struck and failed.

Why should I add to my father's danger? The fellow had tried to slay him once; the next time he would make no mistake. I would make no further effort to help such a traitor; I would ride on. But again the beseeching face of the girl stopped me, and again I was moved to think how I could aid the miserable prisoner. Like a flash of lightning I thought of the silver key. That would unlock his prison door. Although I fully believed in Don Felipe's guilt, I remembered he made no effort to defend himself. He would not admit Sorillo's right to try him. Before a lawful judge he might be able to vindicate his actions in some way; at least he should have the chance to do so. Thus thinking, I turned back in the direction of the ravine.

Half of the sentries, I knew, had been withdrawn to ride with their chief, but the number on guard mattered little; the silver key was an all-powerful talisman. I rode slowly, not wishing to tire the horses, to whose speed and strength we might later be indebted for our lives. I thought, too, it would serve my purpose better to reach the ravine in the dead of night, when the men would be sleepy and less likely to ask inconvenient questions.

I was stopped at the entrance to the pass, but not for long. The Indians who had seen me ride out with their chief had no suspicion of my object.

"Where is the chief?" asked the officer. "Have the Royalists got clear of the mountains?"

"No; they are still in the defiles. But I am in a hurry; I have come for the Spanish prisoner Montilla."

Fortunately this officer had not attended the trial of Don Felipe, and Sorillo was not the man to give reasons for his orders. My main difficulty would lie with the sentry at the door of the hut, but I did not think he would disobey the authority of the Silver Key.

In any case, boldness was my best policy; so I clattered up the ravine, stopping hardly a yard from the astonished sentry.

"Quick, man!" I cried, springing to the ground; "are you asleep? Open the door. I have come back for the prisoner. Is he still bound? Good. Can you tie him to this horse so that he cannot escape?"

"Yes, senor, if the chief wishes it. But, pardon me, senor, I have no orders."

"Orders!" cried I angrily; "what would you? I have but just left the chief; and is not this" (producing the silver key) "sufficient authority? Am I to tell the chief that he must come himself for the prisoner?"

"No, no, senor; but I am only a simple soldier. I must not open the door unless my officer bids me."

"He is below," I said; "we cannot pass without his permission. And I must hurry, or it will be too late. Quick, drag the fellow out and bind him firmly on the horse; then come with me."

The sentry had no inkling of the truth, and, never dreaming that his officer could be deceived, opened the door. Then the prisoner, whether from fear or from cunning I could not tell, acted in such a manner that no one would think I was helping him to escape.

He refused to stir an inch from his bench, and kicked vigorously when the sentry tried to seize him. Then he yelled so loudly that the officer came running up in alarm.

"The bird has no wish to leave his cosy nest," laughed he.—"Give me the rope, Pedro, and get a gag; the chief won't want to hear that music.—Now, senor, if you'll bear a hand we'll hoist him up.—Be still, you villain, or you'll get a knock on the head.—Had not one of my fellows better go with you to guard this wild beast, senor?"

Now, from the officer's point of view this was a very sensible proposal, and one which I dared not oppose for fear of exciting suspicion.

So I answered carelessly, "A good thought, and I am obliged to you; though," with a laugh, "the prisoner won't be able to do much mischief when you have finished with him."

"No, indeed; he'll be pretty clever if he can get these knots undone," replied the officer complacently.—"Now, the gag, Pedro. Quick, or he'll spoil his voice in the night air.—There, my pretty bird! you shall sing later on."

All this occupied time, and I was in dread lest dawn should break before we left the ravine. Then we had to wait till Pedro had saddled his horse; and I watched the sky anxiously. At last we were ready, and bidding Pedro ride in front, I took leave of the unsuspecting officer.

"A safe journey," he cried. "I should like to know what Sorillo means to do with the fellow."

"You'll hear all about it when the troops return," said I, laughing and hurrying after Pedro.

Thus far the venture, with one exception, had succeeded admirably. The prisoner was out of his cage, and would soon be clear of the pass. Then I should only have Pedro to deal with. His company was a nuisance, but it must be borne with for the present; later I should have to find means to get rid of him.

We rode slowly down the narrow path, Pedro in front, Don Felipe and I abreast. The poor fellow was in a hapless plight. The gag hurt his mouth, and the cords cut into his flesh. Had we been alone, I should, of course, have done something to ease his pain; but as long as Pedro was there, this was out of the question.

"Anyhow, it's better than being shot," I thought; "and really the wretch deserves it all."

We passed the sentries without trouble; but at the bottom of the pass my difficulties began again.

"I suppose the chief has gone to San Mateo, senor?" said Pedro questioningly. "That is the best place to watch from."

This was an awkward question, as I had intended making a straight dash for Lima; but it would not do to arouse the man's suspicions. We were too close to the mountains to run any unnecessary risks, and if Pedro showed fight there, our chance of escape was gone.

So I answered, "Yes," and rode along, wondering what would come of it. Every step led us into greater danger. We might run into the arms of the guerillas, in which event Don Felipe's fate was certain; or be stopped by the Royalists, when I should be made prisoner.

Day was now breaking, and with the strengthening light I began to see our position more clearly. It was not promising. We were farther from Lima than we had been when in the ravine, and were making straight for the mountains again. Another half-hour's riding would cut us off from escape completely. What could be done? There was no time to lose, and I must hit on a plan at once. The simplest and perhaps the only one likely to be successful I set aside without a moment's hesitation. Not for a dozen men's lives, my own included, would I harm the unsuspecting man whom chance had thrown into my power. I might, however, frighten him into obedience. As far as I could see, it was that or nothing, and the attempt must be made at once.

So, with beating heart and greatly doubting what would be the issue, I whipped out my pistol, and, levelling it at him, said quietly, "Move your hand to your musket, and you are a dead man! do as I bid you, and no harm will befall you. Leave your gun, get down from the saddle, and hold your hands above your head."

In the circumstances it was a risky experiment, because if the man should guess the truth I was entirely at his mercy. For him there was no more danger than if my pistol were a piece of wood.

"But, senor—" he began, staring at me in surprise.

"Get down!" I repeated sternly. "It is my order. Don't waste time, or I shall be obliged to fire."

Pedro was a brave man; indeed, all the Indians in Sorillo's band held their lives cheap. He did not exactly understand what was happening, yet he seemed to think that all was not right.

"The chief!" he exclaimed. "Does he—"

"Get down!" I cried once more, brandishing my weapon.

With a thundering shout of "The Silver Key! Help for the Silver Key!" he clubbed his musket and dashed straight at me, regardless of the levelled pistol.

One moment's pressure on the trigger and he would have dropped to the ground helpless, but I refrained; instead, I pulled the rein, and my horse swerved sharply, though not in time. The musket descended with a thud; the pistol slipped from my nerveless fingers; I seemed to be plunging down, down beneath a sea of angry waters.

How long I lay thus, or what happened during that time, I do not know; but I awoke to find myself beside a roaring fire, and to hear the hum of many voices. A soldier, hearing me move, came and looked into my face.

"Where am I?" I asked anxiously.

"Not far from Lima," said he. "A few hours since you weren't far from the next world. How did you get that broken head?"

I tried hard to remember, but could not; the past was a total blank.

"Well, well, never mind," exclaimed the man kindly. "Try to sleep; you will be better in the morning."

With the coming of dawn I saw that I was in the midst of a large camp. Thousands of soldiers wrapped in their ponchos lay motionless before smouldering fires. Presently there was a blowing of bugles, and the still figures stirred to life. Officers rode hither and thither issuing orders, the men ate their scanty rations, the cavalry groomed and fed their horses—there were all the sights and sounds connected with an army about to march.

Then the infantry formed in battalions, the horsemen mounted, bugles sounded in numerous places; there was a cracking of whips, the creaking of wheels, and all began to move slowly forward. Soon but a few men remained, and it seemed that I had been forgotten.

At length a man came to me. He was dressed in uniform, but his words and actions proved him to be a surgeon.

"Feel better?" he asked. "Can you eat something? I can only give you army food; but that will fill up the hollows. Now let me look at the damage. Faith, I compliment you on having a thick skull. A thinner one would have cracked like an egg-shell. Don't try to talk till you've had something to eat."

"Just one question," I said faintly. "Who are the soldiers just moved out?"

"Why, General Canterac's troops. I see you belong to the other side. But don't worry; we shan't hurt you."

"Then I am a prisoner?"

"That's always the way—one question leads to a dozen, Yes, I suppose you are a prisoner; but that's nothing very terrible," and he hurried off to procure food and drink for me.

Later in the day he came to have another talk, and I learned something of what had happened.

"We crossed the mountains almost without a check," he began. "The Indians did us some damage; but they were only a handful, and we saw none of your fellows."

"But how came I to be here?"

"Ah! that's a queer story. A party of scouts screening our left flank had just reached the base of the mountains, when they heard a fellow yelling at the top of his voice. By the time they got in sight, the man had evidently knocked you down, and was off at a mad gallop."

"Alone?" I asked.

"No; that's the strange part of it. He was leading a spare horse which carried something on its back. Our men could not get a good view, but it looked like a full sack, or a big bundle of some sort. They followed rapidly, and were wearing the runaway down when the Indians appeared in force on the hills. Of course that stopped the pursuit, and after picking you up, they came on with the army."

My memory returned now, and I understood what had happened. Pedro had escaped, and carried Don Felipe with him to the Indians of the Silver Key.

"Poor Rosa!" I sighed; "it is all over now. She will never see her father again. Sorillo will take care that he doesn't escape a second time."

My thoughts dwelt so much on this that I took little interest in the rest of the doctor's conversation. He was very jubilant, though, I remember, about his party's success, telling me that in a short time General Canterac would be master of Callao, and that the Patriots had nowhere the slightest chance of victory.

"What will be done with me?" I asked.

"I shall send you with our sick to the hospital at Jauja. The air there is bracing, and will help you to recover more quickly."

"Thank you," I said, though really caring very little at that time where I was sent.

Next day I was placed with several Spanish soldiers in an open wagon, one of a number of vehicles guarded by an escort of troopers. My friendly surgeon had gone to Lima; but I must say the Spaniards behaved very well, making no difference between me and their own people.

As to the journey across the mountains, I remember little of it. The worthy Pedro had made such good use of his musket that my head was racked with pain, and I could think of nothing. Most of the sick soldiers were also in grievous plight, and it was a relief to us all when, after several days' travelling, the procession finally halted in Jauja.

Here we were lifted from the carts and carried to a long whitewashed building filled with beds. They were made on the floor, and many of them were already occupied. Accommodation was found for most of us, but several had to wait until some of the beds became vacant.

Two or three doctors examined the fresh patients, and one forced me to swallow a dose of medicine. Why, I could not think, unless he wanted me to know what really vile stuff he was capable of concocting.

I shall pass quickly over this portion of my story. For weeks I lay in that wretched room, where dozens of men struggled night and day against death. Some snatched a victory in this terrible fight, but now and again I noticed a file of soldiers reverently carrying a silent figure from one of the low beds.

By the end of September I was strong enough to get up, and the doctors pronouncing me out of danger, I was taken to another building. This was used as a prison for captured officers of the Patriot forces, and the very first person to greet me as I stepped inside the room was the lively Alzura.

"Juan Crawford," cried he, "by all that's wonderful! From the ballroom to the prison-house! There's a splendid subject for the moralist. Where have you been, Juan? your people think you are dead. Miller is frantic; all your friends in Lima are in despair."

"Do you know anything of Don Felipe Montilla?" I asked.

"Montilla? No; there is a mystery about him too. It is given out that he was abducted by brigands, but some people whisper another story."

"What?"

"That he fled to the Royalists, my boy, as I prophesied he would."

"Then you were a false prophet."

"Then I ask the worthy Don's pardon for suspecting him without cause. But how did you get here?"

"I was brought in a wagon."

"Lucky dog! Always lucky, Juan. I had to walk," and he showed me his feet, naked, and scored with cuts.

After sympathizing with him, I asked him how events were shaping.

"Canterac did not capture Callao, as he hoped, and is now back in the highlands. Many things have happened, however; let me be your chronicle. Where shall I start?"

"From the day that Canterac swooped down on Lima."

"That was nothing. He sat down in the capital; we hugged the guns at Callao and looked at him. When he got tired he took himself off, and we returned to our quarters."

"Nothing very exciting in that."

"You are right, my boy. Your judgment is marvellous. But we had a day of excitement shortly before I came on this trip. You should have been there. Lima went stark mad! The guns at Callao thundered for hours; the capital was decked with flags; the people cheered till they were hoarse; there was a very delirium of joy. It was the greeting of Peru to her saviour—her second saviour, that is."

"Why can't you speak plainly? Do you mean Bolivar has come?"

"Your second question, Juan, shows there was little need for the first. Yes, Bolivar, the protector or emperor, or whatever name the new master of Peru cares to be known by. The hero of South America has arrived; let the Spaniards tremble!"

"For any sake give your tongue a rest. What has Santa Cruz done?"

"What has Santa Cruz done? A very great deal, my boy, I assure you. He has lost his whole army—men and horses, guns and ammunition, wagons and stores. What do you think of that, young man? You will be compelled to swallow Bolivar after all."

"Let us change the subject. Tell me about yourself."

"Ah," said he, "that is indeed a great subject! Your discernment is worthy of praise. I can talk on that topic for hours without tiring. Where shall I begin?"

"Where is the jailer?"

"Why?"

"That I may ask him to send me back to the hospital."

"Juan, you are a fraud! But hark! that is the bell calling us to dinner. Blessed sound! Come with me to the banquet."



CHAPTER XXIII.

AN OPEN-AIR PRISON.

There were fifteen or sixteen Patriot officers of all ranks in the prison, and I found most of them jolly fellows. We lived all together in two large rooms, one of which was used as a bedroom. In addition, we were allowed at certain hours to walk up and down a long corridor, so that we got a fair amount of exercise.

Alzura and a few of the other youngsters spent much time in planning methods of escape, and they were glad of any suggestions I could offer. As a rule, our arrangements ended in talk. The viceroy put his trust rather in keen-eyed sentries than in locks, bolts, and strong walls. An armed man stood on either side of the door leading to the corridor, which was itself guarded by a chain of soldiers. At the yard-door, through which we were not permitted to pass, an officer with several men always stood on duty.

Three or four times every week, in the middle of the night, an inspecting officer would summon us to get up and answer our names. This was a great nuisance, as it disturbed our sleep, but fortunately it did not take long. We slept on the floor fully dressed and wrapped in our ponchos, so there was no delay in making our toilets.

We were given sufficient food—of a sort; but we had no amusements of any kind, and absolutely nothing to do. Our sole occupation was walking round and round the room like caged bears, and chatting about the war.

Most of us voted Alzura a bore in this respect, but I think on the whole he did us good. His was the first voice heard in the morning, and the last at night. He was equally ready to talk with ensign or general, and on any subject under the sun. He would jest or laugh, or, I really believe, weep with you at a moment's notice. He would instruct the artillery officer in the management of guns, advise the cavalryman how to ride, and show the general the best way to order a battle. Alzura was a genius, and most of us were only now beginning to find it out.

When the talk turned to the best way of escaping, he was delightful. Never was there a fellow with such ingenious schemes; only, as it happened, they were not quite suitable to our circumstances. Had we been in an underground cell, with massive walls and an iron door, he would have had us out in less than no time. When I mentioned casually that we were not so placed, he would reply good-humouredly, "No, dear boy, but some day you may be, and then my instructions will come in handy. But, as you say, the position at present is slightly different. First, we have to pass the sentry on this side of the door. I suppose we are all agreed on that point? Well, then, having got rid of him—"

"But we haven't got rid of him!"

"No; quite true. I can see him from here, and a very surly fellow he looks. I wonder the officer doesn't give us some one with a more amiable face. However, that's outside the argument. Now, supposing we had disposed of this fellow, the question is, what to do next."

"But we haven't disposed of him!"

"Just so; but we ought to be prepared in case he is withdrawn, or anything of that sort, you know. However, if you won't follow my advice, it's no use giving it. It's simply folly to go on talking."

"I felt convinced you would say something sensible before you had finished," laughed one of the youngsters gaily.

Alzura laughed too, and gave the fellow a playful tap on the head, for he loved a joke whoever chanced to be the victim.

That same evening he told us of a fresh plan—for Alzura was as full of plans as an egg is of meat—and before he came to the end, we were laughing so uproariously that the sentry ordered us to make less noise.

"I daresay you fellows have wasted the day as usual," he began; "that is the worst of having some one to do your thinking for you. I really wish you wouldn't depend so much on me."

"That's the penalty of being so clever, my boy. The world always overworks its greatest men. It's quite reasonable, after all."

"But it's hard on me, nevertheless," observed Alzura; "though I suppose one ought not to complain of being a genius. Well, I've been working my brains all day—"

"Your what?"

"Oh, shut up, and let me speak! I've hit on a lovely plan: it will work like a machine; it can't possibly fail. We have been on the wrong tack, trying to meet force with force. What we want is craft. Do you follow me, boys?"

"Yes, yes; go on! Let's hear the lovely plan."

"When you do hear it, you will wonder why no one thought of it before. It is simple beyond belief, almost."

"A true mark of genius, Alzura. But we're waiting to hear this infallible plan."

"Well, look here. Just study that sentry's face a minute. Who is he like? Don't know? Why, isn't he just like our friend Crawford?"

The little group laughed with delight, while I said reproachfully, "Oh, come, Alzura!"

"Not so much the face, dear boy," said he, "but the figure. He's just your height and build; you will admit that. And his clothes will fit you, Juan. Now, do you see?"

I confessed to being still in a fog, so he continued his explanations.

"This is the idea," said he. "You and Barriero—Barriero is wonderfully strong—stroll down to him presently. Pretend you want to ask him a question. That will put him off his guard. What happens? You spring on him suddenly, clap a rag in his mouth, and with our help hold him so that he cannot struggle. Then you exchange clothes and stand on guard. When the relief comes you march away. Understand?"

"Nothing could be simpler," I murmured, while we were all nearly choking with suppressed laughter.

"Grand, isn't it?" said he. "I knew you would be struck."—I was.—"Then we'll serve the next fellow the same way, and the next, and so on till we are all out. After that we'll seize the viceroy—"

But by this time we were convulsed with laughter, and the sentry, in no very gentle tones, advised us to be quiet.

"It's a great scheme, Alzura," I said presently, "a wonderful scheme, but it can't be carried out. Suppose the trick was discovered after my escape, all you fellows would be punished sharply, and I shouldn't like that."

"No," said he, in a disappointed tone; "I thought your scruples might stand in the way."

Alzura's plan was still fresh in our minds when the Royalists showed us how to pass the sentry. One morning, directly after breakfast, an officer entered the room with a number of soldiers, and we were ordered to stand in line. Producing a paper, he read a list of the names, and each man, as he answered, was told to step forward. Then we were marshalled in twos, the left arm of one man being tied to the right of the other. My companion was Alzura, and very disgusted he looked at the treatment.

"What are they going to do with us?" he asked.

"I don't know. Perhaps they heard we wanted to get away, and are obliging us."

"Silence!" roared a Royalist sergeant; "no talking!" And Alzura groaned. How was he to live if he had to keep his tongue still?

A long strip of tough hide was now brought, and was knotted at intervals to the fastenings between each pair of prisoners. It formed a sort of gigantic single rein, and I suggested in a whisper to Alzura that we were to be harnessed to the viceroy's chariot.

"'Twill save horseflesh, and we shall be doing something for our living," I added.

Some of the soldiers now went to the front of us, some to the rear; the door was flung wide open. "March!" cried the officer, and into the corridor we marched, through the yard, and so into the open road.

"Out at last," I remarked to Alzura. "The Royalists have hit on an even simpler plan than yours."

"Simple, but not clever. There is no art in this kind of thing."

"Oh, isn't there?" I laughed, giving the thongs a tug. "The arrangement strikes me as unusually artistic."

"You are trying to be witty, dear boy. Don't. The Royalists will be revenged on us, and who shall blame them? Hullo, they aren't taking us into the town!"

"No; we're going for a pleasure trip somewhere, I expect. How kind of them to think we need a change!—I say, Barriero, don't you think this is an improvement on Alzura's plan?"

Barriero, who was one of the couple in front of us, laughed and said, "Well, I can't say yet. I'll tell you when I know more about it."

At the gate of the prison our escort had been strengthened by a number of horsemen, who now rode on either side of us, so that any hope of escaping was quite extinguished. We knew nothing as to our destination, which I think the officer in charge did not make known even to his subordinates. A few people stood at the outskirts of the town to watch us pass, but during the remainder of the day we saw no one except our guards.

The march was terribly painful and fatiguing, though I have no wish to suggest that we were ill-treated. The fact was, the long confinement we had undergone made us keenly alive to the trials of a wearisome journey such as this. About midday a halt was called, our fastenings were loosened, while we were allowed to sit down and eat a ration of meat which was served out to each of us. Some of the soldiers rested; others stood on guard, with orders to shoot any man who made the slightest effort to escape.

"They needn't fear my running far," said Alzura ruefully, showing me his bleeding feet.

"Caramba!" cried a soldier sitting near, "that won't do, senor. The rocks are sharp in this part of the country. Wait; I have some green hides in my knapsack. I'll make you some sandals if the colonel halts for an hour."

"I shall be very grateful for your kindness," said Alzura; "the pain in my feet has kept me from admiring the scenery, and there are some grand views about here."

"I've seen finer in Lima," muttered the man, who was already busy at his self-imposed task.

"Give me some stuff," said one of his comrades; "I'll make one sandal while you make the other. The youngster will have his feet cut to the bone. He ought to be at school instead of marching about the country."

"I'm not eager to march," laughed Alzura; "I'll stay behind willingly."

"Ugh!" exclaimed the first soldier, "you would soon be dead in this wilderness. We have seen some sights in this district—haven't we, Alonzo?"

"That we have," replied his companion, "and I don't want to see any more of them."

The two worthy fellows worked so industriously that in less than half an hour the sandals were completed, the holes pierced, and the laces put in, all ready for use.

"I don't know how to thank you," said Alzura earnestly, "but if we manage to live through this war, I may be able to pay you back. At present you must take the will for the deed."

"It's all right, senor; we could not see you suffer like that. And our officer will say we did right. Just in time, too! There's the summons to assemble."

At the evening halt we were again set free a short time, being refastened for the night. After travelling for four days in this way, we saw from the top of a high hill the waters of a magnificent lake, studded with islets. It seemed quite near; but several hours passed before we reached its border—a broad morass, through which ran devious tracks.

Our leader now stopped, and we saw a number of soldiers carefully crossing one of the tracks from the lake. As soon as they reached us we were unbound and placed in single file, while the chief of the escort said, "The journey is ended. Yonder is your home while the war lasts. It is not a lively place, but you will be out of mischief. Follow your guides, and walk carefully; you will not enjoy sinking in the quagmires."

We appreciated his advice more when, about half-way across, a stout middle-aged major, missing his footing, plunged into the liquid mud. In an instant he was immersed to the chin, and but for Barriero, who grasped his head, would have disappeared altogether. As it was, he presented a miserable appearance, and showed us how terrible was the danger.

Several boats were moored at the edge of the lake, and an officer directed us to get in, one by one. Barriero, Alzura, and I entered the same boat; which was fortunate, as the prisoners were divided into three groups and taken to different islets.

There were six of us in our group, and twelve soldiers under the command of a non-commissioned officer. The guard occupied comfortable quarters, while three mud huts were reserved for us. The islet was quite bare of trees, and was so small that Alzura pretended he could not stretch his legs comfortably for fear of slipping into the water.

The men who had rowed us over did not land, but took the boats to another islet, much larger than ours, which we guessed to be the headquarters of this novel prison.

"The governor of this place is a clever warder," remarked Barriero; "there's no getting away from here."

"Why not?" I asked.

"The risk is too great. Just think for a minute. First one would have to swim to the shore, and then cross the morass in the dark, as it would not be possible to escape in the daytime. It's really waste of time to mount a guard over us."

"We must set our wits to work," observed Alzura gravely.

"No, no," I cried; "Barriero's is the only way, and a very poor one it is. The swim is a trifle, but to cross the morass—"

"Why not build a bridge?" suggested Alzura.

"And use our bodies as part of the foundations," said Barriero, laughing. "If you make any more idiotic remarks, Alzura, I'll throw you into the lake."

"All right," said he. "You'll be sorry when Crawford and I escape and leave you behind."

"I've a long time to wait," replied Barriero, "so I'll pass some of it in sleep."

Alzura and I shared one of the huts between us. There was no furniture; the floor was of mud, and so were the walls, while the roof was thatched with some dried vegetable matter. The place was not exactly a palace, but it sheltered us, and for that we were thankful.

The sergeant in charge of the islet was a good-humoured fellow. Feeling sure that we could not escape, he treated us quite genially, though maintaining discipline at the same time. He often talked of the war, giving us news now and again of events which never happened.

On the third morning after our arrival, we saw several boats leave the main island and visit the various islets on which prisoners were kept.

"That's the governor making a tour of his kingdom," the sergeant explained. "He is bringing us a week's provisions, and will no doubt have a peep at his new subjects."

The governor was a Spanish officer, quite old, but stiff and erect in spite of his many years. He ordered us to draw up in line, called our names from the list, hoped we should be comfortable, ordered the sergeant to put in irons any man who disobeyed him, wished us all good-morning in courtly old-world style, stepped into his boat, and was rowed away.

"Not a word about attempting to escape!" remarked Barriero.

The sergeant heard the remark, and said with a laugh, "It is needless, senor. No one ever got away from here. Some have tried, and they are at the bottom of the morass. Why, even I would not venture to cross that terrible place, except in broad daylight with a trusty guide. If you think of trying, senor, let me advise you to stay where you are. Here you can be comfortable; there—ugh!" and the man shuddered at the very thought of it.

"Your advice is good, sergeant, and I intend to profit by it," cried Barriero. "We saw one man slip when we were crossing, and I shan't forget his face in a hurry. Caramba! it makes me shiver yet."

"Besides," continued the sergeant, "suppose that by some miracle you cross the marsh, what would happen then? You would die of hunger. But I will grant you a further miracle. You shall cross the mountains and join your friends. Is the danger over? It is but just beginning. You will be killed in battle. But your luck clings to you, and you still survive. Well, then, the war comes to an end; you are hunted down, captured with arms on you, and shot as rebels."

"What a charming picture, sergeant!" laughed Alzura. "It seems to me we are better off where we are."

"I am glad for your own sake that you think so," said the officer gravely. "I grow attached to my birds with their clipped wings, and only desire their welfare. There was a young fellow here once, a pretty boy, senor, like yourself"—Alzura bowed gracefully—"and I had grown to love him. But he got tired of the place and the company, I suppose, and one night he slipped into the water. I fired my musket, and a boat which is always kept ready started in pursuit. He reached the morass first, and found a track. My men followed cautiously. They could not see him, but presently they knew there was no need to go further."

"How?" asked Alzura curiously.

"The shriek of the boy as he went to his death told them what had happened. Ah, it was not the first time some of them had heard such a wail!"

"Sergeant," said Alzura, "you tell such lively stories that I wonder at any one becoming tired of your society!"

"You are pleased to be merry," replied the man, "and I, too, can be the same, only not when speaking of the morass. Come, let us forget it for a while. Although you are my prisoners, you will not find me a harsh jailer."

This was quite true, but not all his kindness could make up to us for loss of liberty. Barriero and the other three prisoners seemed quite resigned to their fate, but Alzura was always hankering after the delights of Lima and home, while I, too, longed very much to see my parents and friends. So we often sat for hours watching the margin of the lake, envying the men who went ashore. They carried on their heads whatever bundles they had, and we carefully noted the landing-place, as well as the track across the morass which they appeared to take.

"It seems easy enough, doesn't it?" Alzura would say; "but in the dark it would be different! Think of the quagmires, Juan! Caramba! the sergeant was right. We had better give up our dreams, Juan, eh?"

I felt sure that this was wisely spoken, but somehow the next day we again went to look at the opposite shore and possible freedom. That horrible morass had a wonderful fascination for us. We thought of it by day and dreamed of it by night; but the weeks slipped away, and still we were prisoners on the islet.

The new year came, and in May 1824 we were joined by another captive. This was a treat for us, as he brought news from the outside world. He told us there had been many disturbances, that Bolivar was now undisputed ruler and leader of the Patriots, but that the end of the war seemed as far off as ever.

"If they keep us till the country is at peace," said he, "we shall die of old age on this islet."



CHAPTER XXIV.

A DANGEROUS JOURNEY.

"I think," remarked Alzura, one day toward the end of June, "I'll get the sergeant to put me in irons."

"Why?" I asked in surprise.

"Because sitting here and looking at the land is driving me crazy."

"Then don't look at it."

"I can't help it, and that's the truth. Wouldn't it be grand if we could only cross that morass safely!"

"But we can't!"

"No," said he; "but suppose we could? Suppose there came a night when it was just dark enough to hide us, and yet light enough to show us the track? Wouldn't it be a feather in our caps if we could get back safely to Miller?"

"It would; but we should lose our nerve in that horrible swamp, even if we reached it."

"Very likely; and our lives too. Let's go back to the hut."

We had often talked like this, but now there seemed more purpose and earnestness in my chum's manner. I looked at him closely as we returned to our quarters, and wondered if he had decided to run the risk.

"A quarter of a mile isn't a long swim, is it?" he said, after a time.

"Oh no!" I agreed cheerfully.

"And we might easily save sufficient food from our rations to last a long while."

"Most likely we shouldn't need it long."

"It would be very useful if we did."

"Look here, Alzura," said I, turning on him suddenly, "let's make an end of this business. What are you driving at? Are you going to risk your life in that morass?"

"I'm very tired of this place," he answered moodily.

"So am I; but that doesn't lessen the danger of the swamp. Now, let us make no mistake. There is, perhaps, one chance in a hundred. Is it worth risking? Death in a morass must be rather horrible. Don't you think so?"

"Well, it can't be very pleasant; but you admit we stand a chance of getting across."

"One in a hundred, no more."

"Ah, well," said he thoughtfully, "let us sleep on it."

I could not help thinking that my chum must want his freedom badly to even suggest such a venture. Any hot-blooded enterprise, I knew well, appealed to him strongly; but this one required cool, dogged patience and nerves of iron. Barriero was a brave fellow too, but he honestly admitted he would rather be shot than try to cross the morass in the dark. As for me, I trembled at the thought of taking part in so hazardous an enterprise.

However, it seemed to me that Alzura was making up his mind to go. Every day he let fall broad hints, and at last stated his intentions without reserve.

"Juan," said he one evening, "I'm going. The war may last a couple of years yet. Are you coming with me? Don't if you'd rather not risk it."

"Have you counted the cost?"

"Yes. I know it's a touch-and-go affair; that is why I won't press you to join me."

"Two will stand a better chance than one," said I thoughtfully, "and you mustn't try it alone. Shall we ask Barriero to come with us?"

"May as well pass the compliment," answered Alzura, laughing. "But he won't, I'm positive."

And he was right; for Barriero, on being asked, said hotly,—

"You're a pair of idiots, and I don't know which is the bigger."

"It must be neither or both, if we're a pair," chuckled Alzura.

"Why can't you be satisfied?" growled Barriero. "You've plenty of food, no work to do, and are well treated. And there isn't one chance in a thousand of your getting through."

"Crawford said one in a hundred!"

"Well, anyway, you're certain to lose your lives, and I shall be blamed for not stopping you. It's my duty to inform the sergeant, and have you chained up."

"You can't," said Alzura—"you can't betray us."

"You're two lunatics—stark, staring lunatics—and I wish you had told me nothing of your mad scheme."

"It's awfully risky," said I, "but not so mad as you think. We shall choose our night, and we know just where to land. Then we shall take provisions to last us three or four days."

"You won't need them," interrupted Barriero, in a tone of conviction which was far from encouraging.

But now that the affair had really been decided on, the dangers of the morass soon lost some of their terrors. We were able to talk about them calmly, and thus grew familiar with them, at least in imagination. Every day we set aside a portion of the dried meat and biscuit which formed the chief part of our food, until at last we had as much as could be carried easily. It would be stupid to load ourselves with too heavy a burden, as Barriero rather unkindly reminded us.

We waited three whole weeks after coming to our decision before starting on the venture, and then, one favourable night, slipped down to the edge of the islet. Barriero, who had kept the secret, came to wish us good-bye, and the poor old fellow shook like a timid child.

"It is a mad game," said he, "a downright mad game. I shall never forgive myself for allowing you to go. It isn't too late now to draw back. Do take my advice, and don't risk it. I shan't sleep a wink all night if you go."

"Never mind, my boy," replied Alzura, laughing; "you'll have plenty of time afterwards for a nap.—Now, Juan, off with your clothes."

The other prisoners were sound asleep in their huts; so were the soldiers, with the exception of the two sentries. These men were supposed to keep a sharp lookout, but nothing had happened for so long a time that their duty was mostly a matter of form. However, Barriero kept watch while we each stripped and made a bundle of our food and clothes to carry on our heads.

"Good-bye, old man," we said to him when we were quite ready; and he, gripping our hands, whispered back,—

"Good luck; but I wish you would not go. Take care, and come back here rather than lose your lives, if you cannot find the track."

We promised to do so, and then took quietly to the water. The first part of the journey gave us no trouble whatever. We were both good swimmers, and quickly arrived at the spot which we had selected as the landing-place. Here we crouched on a patch of firm ground, undid our bundles, and proceeded to dress quickly. A smothered exclamation from Alzura made me glance at him. In his hurry he had whisked his shirt a yard or two away, and it had settled in the liquid mud.

"There's an end to that garment!" said he. "Well, after all, it's no great loss; 'twas mostly made of holes. What have you found, Juan?"

"A stout staff tipped with iron, left here by the soldiers, most likely. What a piece of luck, my boy! Now we shall be able to test the ground."

"Yes, the balance is on our side," said he happily, buttoning his tunic. "Are you ready? Give me the staff, and I'll go first."

Of course I could not let him do that; so turning it off with a laugh, I cried,—

"No, thank you. I'm not going to trust my life to your hands, or rather feet. Now, follow me closely. Walk just where I do, and if you see me disappearing, pull me back sharp. We're on the track now, and must try to keep on."

"Spoken with the wisdom of a sage!" said Alzura saucily. "I say, Juan, how shall I know when you're moving?"

There was certainly reason for his sarcasm. As often as not, when I raised my foot I brought it down in the same place again, or, according to Alzura, even went a step backward. The night was not particularly dark—indeed, we had doubted whether it was dark enough for us to swim ashore unobserved—but the marsh was fearfully deceptive.

In places the track was merely a dry hump here and there, for which I had to feel with the staff. Twice, in spite of every precaution, I missed my footing, and the second time had sunk to the waist before Alzura could pull me out.

"I can't see you very well, Juan," said he, laughing, "but I have an idea that you would cut a fine figure in a ballroom just now."

"Especially if it were a fancy-dress affair," I replied in the same tone.

We were in no merry humour, mind you; but the weakest joke was better than dwelling on the horrors which surrounded us. Each of us knew that, but for Alzura's quickness, I should have disappeared for ever, leaving no trace behind me. Twice before the break of day I had saved him from a similar fate.

We left the islet about ten o'clock, and at midnight were still in the morass, unable to move. Alzura had joined me on a piece of firm ground, just large enough for us to stand on, and no more. It was darker now, so that we could see nothing clearly, while I failed to touch any solid substance, except that behind us, with my pole. Alzura's attempts were equally unsuccessful.

"You're a pretty guide!" said he. "You've got off the track; we had better try back. Give me the staff."

"Be careful; mind how you turn. Can you feel the ground where we stood just now?"

"Yes; here it is," and the next minute he stepped back to feel for the proper path, while I stood trembling lest he should slip in and be smothered before I could get to his assistance.

"Can you find a place?" I asked.

"Only towards the lake. It's nothing but marsh to right and left. I think I'll come to you again. What is it? Did I hurt you?"

"Oh no, not at all!—only crushed my toes a bit with the pole! What are we going to do now?"

"I suppose it's too early for breakfast?" he began, and then in a different tone he added hastily, "Oh, I say, what a joke! I've dropped my bundle of food somewhere. Perhaps it's just as well; I shall walk lighter."

"But you'll want something to eat," I suggested.

"Of course I shall. How dense you are! Don't you see how the accident will benefit us both? There are two now instead of one to eat your rations, so you will have all the less to carry."

"Oh," said I doubtfully, not quite appreciating the logic. "Well, we don't want breakfast yet, and the question is, what are we to do? The sergeant's bound to discover our escape at breakfast-time, and a search-party will be sent ashore immediately."

"It will be light in an hour or two," observed Alzura cheerfully—"at least light enough for us to find the track again. Let us sit down; it won't be so tiring, and we can't make ourselves any wetter or dirtier. It's a good thing I didn't start on this journey alone; I should be with my provisions now."

"It's always pleasanter to have company," said I, shivering, and not noticing the absurdity till Alzura laughed.

There was certainly very little pleasure in our position just then. We were wet through, chilled to the marrow, and plastered with mud from head to foot. Our limbs felt horribly cramped, yet we almost feared to stretch them, and the enforced delay was fast diminishing our chances of escape. The dawning light might show us the route, but it would also set the soldiers on our heels. Altogether, I was rather inclined to envy Barriero, sleeping peacefully in his hut.

As soon as ever it became light enough, Alzura jumped up, saying, "Where is the pole?" and grasping it, he began trying to touch bottom. He poked long and vigorously in all directions, but without success, till it seemed as if our only plan was to return and give ourselves up.

"Yet there must be a way out," said I impatiently. "The track leads here plainly enough, and it wouldn't come to an end just in the middle of the morass."

"I shouldn't think so," said Alzura. "I wonder whether they've missed us yet. How old Barriero will grin on seeing us back again!"

"We aren't back yet," I replied. "Look at that hump yonder. It seems solid, doesn't it? Lend me the pole. Ah, too short! What d'you think, Alzura?"

"It looks all right," said he; "but appearances are often deceptive. Besides, we can't reach it."

"We can jump it, perhaps."

"Yes," said he thoughtfully, "we might. It's a big risk, though. If it isn't firm ground, the one who jumps will go to his death."

"I'll chance it," said L

"No, you won't; it's my venture. Stand aside, and give me room for a take-off. Remember me to the others if I go down."

"Wait," said I; "there's no need for you to go. We can put it to the test without risking life," and I hastily unslung the packet of provisions which hung over my shoulder.

"Bravo, Juan! that is a good dodge. Mind your aim, though!"

"All right," and raising the bundle, I swung it carefully to and fro, trying to gauge the distance. Then giving it an upward sweep, I let it go, and we watched breathlessly as it fell plump on the spot.

"Firm as a rock," cried Alzura. "Viva! now for the jump, my boy; it's easy enough."

"As long as we come down in the proper place. Stand back," and pulling myself together, I took the leap, landing close beside the bundle. This I picked up, and, telling Alzura to throw me the pole, proceeded to investigate.

"Is it all right?" he cried softly.

"Yes," said I, and stood back while he jumped across.

"Caramba!" said he, "that's a nasty bit well over!" and I noticed that his limbs trembled.

"All's well that ends well," I replied. "Come on, my boy; we've done the worst part, and the track's as plain as a pikestaff now. If we can reach the hill we came down months ago, 'twill be an easy matter to hide."

"I wonder if the sergeant has discovered anything yet? According to his account, the guards will think us dead."

"So much the better for us; they'll give up the search sooner. Hurrah! the ground's getting firmer at every step. I believe we're out of the morass."

The words were hardly spoken, when, my foot catching in some coarse grass, I fell sprawling, face downwards.

"Not quite," observed Alzura, pulling me up, while I tried to get the mud from my mouth and eyes. "It's a lucky thing you didn't try that trick before. Faith, Juan, you do look a picture! I'd willingly give a hundred dollars to be able to pop you down in Lima!"

"Come along, and don't be idiotic, or we shall find ourselves back on the islet."

"Yes," said he, still grinning all over his face; "we can't stay here laughing all day."

"I'm not laughing," I cried indignantly.

"Aren't you? Well, you see, old fellow, it's rather difficult to tell what you're doing through that black mask. I shouldn't try to rub it off. Let it cake, and we'll chip it off with a stone."

"This way," said I gruffly, taking no notice of his attempts to be funny. "We'd better make straight for the mountains and hide ourselves."

"We've need to," he replied, with a meaning laugh.

We were now in a wide plain, dotted with numerous hillocks, and a good deal cut up by streams from the overflow of the lake. The ground was damp, while here and there we plumped straight into a marsh. By this time, however, we were in such a state that nothing mattered, and being unwilling to lose time, we took the shortest though not the most pleasant route.

We had a good start of the soldiers, who, as it happened, were completely thrown off the scent through finding Alzura's bundle. Knowing the terrible nature of the morass, they concluded we were both dead, and returned to the island with the tidings.

We learned this long afterwards from Barriero, who told us how he had mourned our sad fate, and blamed himself repeatedly for having let us go. At the time, however, we expected every moment to hear the patter of feet behind us, and raced on till, breathless and panting, we reached the base of the mountain.

Here we stopped a few moments to recover breath, and then, climbing some distance, proceeded to search for a cavern.

"There ought to be several," said Alzura, "for the mountain has been mined. Didn't you notice the rodados as we came down?"

"Those heaps of rubbish?"

"Yes. All that refuse has been taken out of the mountain. Here's a heap, and the mouth of the tunnel won't be far away. Now, keep your eyes open."

I did my best; but Alzura found the cavern, and in a short time we were both inside. The place was dark, and smelt dreadfully, the roof almost touched our heads, and the passage was very narrow.

"A nice trap!" I remarked. "If the soldiers catch us here, there's an end to our freedom."

"I'm not so sure of that. The gallery may run a long way back, and perhaps communicate with another. Shall we explore it?"

"Not now; I'm hungry and tired."

"So am I, and wet and cold too. I wish we had a fire. Better take your things off and wring them; you'll be a bit more comfortable."

I followed his advice, and then we sat down to feast on the dried beef and biscuits, which, happily, we had been able to keep in good condition. It was not a brilliant banquet, but we were hungry, and our teeth were sharp.

"I think it's a pity I lost my stock," remarked Alzura, lazily enjoying the food. "That bit won't last long."

"You must eat less. I shall put you on short rations in the morning."

"Tell me that to-morrow; I'm sleepy now."

"Aren't we going to keep watch?"

"I don't think it's worth while. The soldiers aren't likely to look here for us, unless you attract their attention by snoring too loudly," and the rascal chuckled himself off to sleep.

In a few minutes I lay down beside him, and slept soundly till he wakened me by beating a tattoo on my ribs, and saying that he wanted his supper. We had, in fact, slept through most of the day, and it was too late to think of making a fresh start till the first thing in the morning.

However, as soon as day broke we set out with a hazy idea of making our way to Lima. By dint of careful economy, our provisions would last for three days, and then we must trust to luck. We had no notion how the war had gone, and I should not have been surprised to hear that the Royalists were again masters of the country.

About noon on the third day of our journey we sat down beside a pleasant stream in a picturesque ravine. There was sufficient food left for one meal, and Alzura voted for having it at once.

"It's a long time since breakfast," said he, "and this mountain air sharpens one's appetite. Besides, it's good policy to make sure of a thing while one has the chance."

"All right," said I, laughing, and opening the bundle, "here you are. Don't grumble with me when we have to go to bed without supper."

"We may get a fresh supply before then; who knows?"

I did not think it likely; but all the same I joined him in an attack on the provisions, which we devoured to the very last morsel. Then we had another drink of water, and rose to resume our journey. As if this were a signal, the rocks round about suddenly became alive with armed men, who yelled some orders which we could not understand. Then clambering over the boulders, they surrounded us, and in a short time had bound our arms tightly with strips of hide. They were fierce-looking fellows—Indians, never seen westward of the Andes—and apparently unfamiliar with the Spanish language. I tried to question them, but they did not understand, while neither of us could make out a word of their patois. It was clear, however, that they meant to take us with them; and as we marched off, Alzura said, with a laugh,—

"What a lucky thing, Juan, that we ate our supper in good time!"



CHAPTER XXV.

BACK TO DUTY.

Since the beginning of the war I had seen a great deal of Indian endurance, but nothing to equal that of our new captors. They marched along in a curious fashion at a kind of jog-trot pace, taking short steps and carrying their feet close to the ground. Mile after mile was covered without apparent effort, and when at last a halt was called, not a man looked the least bit tired. As for Alzura and me, we were exhausted, and lay down just as we were. The Indians lit a fire, roasted some maize, and loosening our bonds, gave us a share of the food, a drink of water, and a little coca. Whether they were friends or foes we could not tell, but despite their ferocious looks they did us no harm.

While on the march I had resolved to try them with the charm of the silver key; but, to my dismay, I found it was no longer round my neck. A part of the chain was still there, but it had snapped off, and the key was gone, sunk probably in the dreadful morass. However, turning to one of the fellows, I said, first in Spanish, then in the patois used by Sorillo's men, "We are officers in the Patriot army, and friends of Raymon Sorillo and the Silver Key; who are you?"

He shook his head solemnly, and looked at me with a blank stare.

"Try him with English, Juan," laughed Alzura. "I wonder where he lives when he's at home? Perhaps he knows Portuguese. I'll have a shot at him."

If Alzura knew Portuguese—which I rather doubted—the Indian was ignorant of that language, and was quite unmoved by my comrade's flood of oratory.

Perhaps he thought Alzura was singing. But my companion in adversity did not take the suggestion in good part; indeed it seemed to annoy him.

"Never mind," said I cheerfully; "they can't march us about for ever. We are bound to meet with civilized beings some time or other."

"But these fellows may belong to the Royalists! Many of the Indians on this side of the mountains do. Then we shall be taken back to the island!"

"We shall have guides across the morass, though; that's one thing to be thankful for."

"And be put in irons! Perhaps you think that's a subject for cheerfulness?"

"We shouldn't be able to risk our lives again, at all events."

"Oh, go to sleep," exclaimed Alzura, "if you've nothing more sensible than that to say!" and he rolled a little nearer the fire.

The next morning the Indians resumed their journey, and after a weary tramp of many miles, encamped on the side of a mountain, where stood several huts in a half-ruined state. One of these was set aside for us, and a sentry was placed at the door.

Here we remained for three weeks while our captors made frequent excursions, starting early in the morning and returning late at night, though of their object we had not the faintest idea. At the end of that time we were taken with them; and from morn till night, for several days in succession, we roamed about those dreadful mountains, till every muscle in our bodies ached with fatigue.

"What is the use of it all?" I asked Alzura gloomily. "What do they expect to gain by this continual tramp up and down?"

"It's my belief that they can't help themselves," he replied. "It's a disease, a form of madness, which keeps them continually on the move. Yesterday we climbed the same hill a dozen times, and finished at the starting-point. Or perhaps it's some new kind of warfare they've invented."

"It's awfully ridiculous, anyhow, and I don't see that we've gained much by leaving the island—unless it's exercise."

"When the war is over, I'll give up walking altogether," said my chum resolutely. "When I'm not on horseback, or in a carriage of some kind, I'll be carried about in a chair. If this lasts much longer, my feet will be worn out."

That evening the Indians lit their fire earlier than usual—a circumstance for which we were duly grateful. We ate our supper, and sat chatting together cheerfully, being put in good humour by the warmth and brightness of the ruddy flames.

Suddenly we heard in the distance the long-drawn-out note of a night bird, repeated again and again, and each time nearer to us. It was answered by our sentries; but the men round the fire made no movement, nor did they show the slightest interest when half a dozen horsemen rode up. The leader, however, rose slowly and talked to the strangers, who, after seeing to their horses, came and sat down.

"Juan," said Alzura, "these fellows belong to a different tribe. Perhaps we shall have a chance of making ourselves understood."

"They are looking at us very pointedly," I answered; and raising my voice, I said, "Can any of you talk Spanish?"

"Yes," cried several together, coming near to us; "what do you want?"

"To make ourselves known," I replied. "These worthy fellows can't understand us, and we're tired of playing hide-and-seek in the mountains."

"Who are you? Where do you come from? Are you for the king?" asked one.

This was treading on dangerous ground; but as we really were worn out, and there seemed no chance of escape, I thought it best to take the bull by the horns. At the worst we should only be handed over to the enemy and sent back to prison.

So I answered quietly, "No; we are Patriot officers who have escaped from the Spaniards. If you are on our side, perhaps you will help us to return to our own people."

"You are with friends, senor, if what you say is true," remarked one who seemed to have some sort of authority.

"If?" said I, trying to speak haughtily; "do you doubt it?"

"Well," said the fellow, with a knowing grin, "you don't look much like officers of any kind." And he was right.

We were, in fact, a pair of as dreary-looking objects as one would be likely to meet. Our sandals were worn out, our clothes hung in rags, and the holes in Alzura's tunic made it painfully apparent that he did not indulge in the luxury of a shirt. Whether we wore uniform, and if so what kind, would have been difficult to decide, as we were still plastered with mud from head to foot. So I could not altogether blame the man for his distrust.

However, I repeated my statement, told him we had fought under the Englishman Miller, and at last introduced the name of Raymon Sorillo.

"We know him well," I said in conclusion, "and are good friends of the Silver Key."

Apparently my words were interpreted for the benefit of our captors, who jabbered together for a considerable time, while Alzura and I anxiously awaited the result of the conference.

At last the leader of the horsemen, turning to me, said, "Senor, it is decided that I shall take you to the army, where your words can be proved. If your story is not true, you will be shot as spies."

"All right; we agree!" I exclaimed joyfully, for it was a delightful thought that we were to escape the strange beings who spent their time in running about the rocks.

"We shall start early," he continued, "so you had better get some rest." Which we did, as soon as our excited state permitted.

"Bravo!" exclaimed Alzura, after breakfast the next morning; "this is an improvement. Fancy being on horseback again! This will be better than trudging on foot, Juan, eh?"

"What about the men who have lent us their horses?"

"Oh," said he merrily, "I believe they would as soon walk as ride, and I'm sure they could keep up longer than the animals."

By this talk you will understand we had been provided with a couple of horses; and taking leave of our original captors, we rode off with our new ones. Of course, both Alzura and I were unarmed, and the leader, in a quiet way, so arranged that we were never very far from a man with a musket.

He was rather a lively fellow for an Indian, and having made sure we could not escape, talked with us freely. He told us the men we had just left were very useful, having already sent in a great deal of valuable information to the Patriot army. He also said that Bolivar had crossed the Andes with a large army, and that a decisive battle was expected at any time. He was very curious about our escape, and could barely credit that we had crossed the morass without assistance.

"It has been done before," he said, "but only once or twice, and then by natives."

"We shan't do it again," laughed Alzura. "It nearly turned our hair white. It was the nastiest experience I have ever had—worse than when the Royalists cut us up at Torata."

"Were you in that battle, senor? Wasn't it terrible?" and the man looked at my comrade with renewed interest.

Indeed, from that time he treated us both with increased respect, and the journey passed quite pleasantly in his company. During the second day we met several groups of mounted Indians, and a detachment of regular soldiers; which showed that we could not be far from the main encampment, on the plain between Rancas and Pasco. Our guide expected to reach it that night, but we did not get in till after breakfast next morning.

The plain was a splendid place for a camp, though rather high up, being some twelve thousand feet above the level of the sea. Surrounding it on all sides, huge mountains towered, their mighty summits hidden by the clouds. The table-land itself was alive with soldiers, and presently I caught sight of the flag which had been presented to the Peruvian Legion.

"Take us over there," I cried excitedly to the guide.—"There are our comrades, Alzura. I see Plaza, and Cordova, and the sour-faced old major. Viva! viva!" and I rose in the stirrups with delight.

What explanation the Indian gave I do not know. We were plucked from the saddles and bandied about from one fellow to another in less than no time, every one helping to keep up a running fire of remarks.

"Now let the Royalists tremble!" exclaimed Plaza, striking a dramatic attitude, spoiled only by the fun and twinkle in his eyes.

"Only think, our little Alzura has returned to us!" cried another; "let us embrace him."

"Wait till he's been scrubbed a few times," suggested Plaza. "The legion should be proud of these 'young bloods.' What airs and graces! What remarkable and novel costumes! What—"

"Can any one lend me a shirt?" interrupted Alzura.

"A shirt?" exclaimed Cordova. "My dear fellow, I have a dozen, quite clean and doing nothing, I shall be proud to let you and Crawford each have one."

"Oh, thanks!" said Alzura. "I thought something practical ought to come from all that talk. Come on, my boy, let's have them at once. Where are they?"

"Just down in Lima. You have only to—" but a roar of laughter drowned the end of the sentence.

"You really don't require one," remarked Plaza; "it would spoil the rest of your uniform—that is, if you have one under that dirt."

Every one was still enjoying the joke, when a number of officers in brilliant uniforms approached our quarter of the plain. In the leader I recognized Bolivar; and, to my great satisfaction, Colonel Miller was one of his suite.

"Your men seem to be enjoying themselves, colonel," we heard Bolivar remark; "what is it all about?"

At that moment Miller caught sight of us, and leaving the general's question unanswered, called us over, saying, "Alzura! Crawford! Where have you been, my boys? We had quite given you up.—General, these are two of my young officers who have been missing for months."

Bolivar, who was in good humour that morning, made us stand by him and relate our adventures. Then he complimented us on our pluck, and turning to an officer, said, "Take these youngsters to O'Brien, and ask him to supply them with decent clothing; they have at least earned that. And I am very proud of you, boys; and so, no doubt, are your comrades." At which Plaza led off a round of cheering.

I was very glad to see the great, big, jolly Irishman again, and he lost no time in getting us fresh uniforms from the stores, with an extra poncho apiece.

"You'll be glad of that at night," said he, "for up here the thermometer is generally below freezing-point. I must come to see you, if there's time, and hear your story."

O'Brien was quite right about the biting cold, but on that first night at least we hardly felt it. Dressed in our new clothes, comfortably wrapped in our ponchos, seated close to a roaring fire, and surrounded by old friends, Alzura and I felt amply repaid for all our toils and privations.

In honour of our arrival our brother officers had organized a grand supper, the greatest delicacy being a small loaf of white bread, which they insisted on sharing with Alzura and myself. After supper, we had to give an account of our adventures; and many a laugh went up as I told of my chum's plans, of our disasters in crossing the morass, and of the strange Indians who had mistaken us for Royalists, which, Plaza unkindly remarked, was a poor compliment to the enemy.

"After all," he continued, "you haven't had such a very bad time. Now, while you've been playing, we've been at work."

"Oh," cried Alzura, smiling blandly, "that would be a change for you!"

"We've made roads," said Cordova, with a solemn air, "built huts, collected fuel, carried corn, and driven cattle. We've worked harder than the labourers on your father's estates."

"Glad to hear it," laughed my chum. "I thought Bolivar would make something of you. A pity we weren't with you, though."

"A great pity! With Crawford and you helping, there would have been little for us to do."

"It must have been rough work crossing the mountains," I observed.

"Rough? rather! especially as Bolivar has turned us into cavalry," and he proceeded to give a graphic account of the passage.

"The shelving ledges on the mountain sides are so narrow that the troops were obliged to advance in single file. The cavalry, of course, were greatly handicapped. Each man rode a mule, and had a led horse, which he dragged after him by a lasso. Sometimes a break in the track, caused by a deep gully or a waterfall, occurred, when the men had to dismount, and to lead their animals.

"But the worst of all was when night came while we were still on the march," said Plaza. "We always walked then, and more than one fellow went tumbling down some frightful precipice. We lost our way two or three times, though there were plenty of trumpeters stationed at intervals. But Cordova will tell you about that," and there was a general laugh.

"Oh," said Alzura, scenting a bit of fun, "order, please, for Cordova's story.—Now, my boy, out with it!"

"'Twas nothing," replied Cordova airily. "We missed our way, and had to return, that's all. A mere accident, only these fellows make such a fuss about it."

"Plaza, you tell the yarn," said I. "Cordova's much too modest, and that's quite a new thing for him, too!"

"Well, it happened on the wildest night of the whole journey. A terrific snowstorm came on, half blinding us. We were wet through and tired as dogs, and the camping-place was still a long way off. We couldn't see much, but there was plenty of noise. The wind howled, the trumpeters blew loud enough to wake the dead, officers shouted to their men, horses neighed and mules brayed: it was a regular pandemonium! To crown all, we were following the windings of a roaring torrent."

"And Cordova was leading," interrupted Major Gamarra.

"Some one suggested we were on the wrong track, but our friend knew better. 'Follow me,' said he; 'I can guide you by the sounds of the trumpets.' And we followed."

"Like a flock of sheep," chimed in the major.

"We went on," continued Plaza, "till even Cordova admitted something was wrong; then we stopped."

"Why didn't you turn back?"

"Out of the question, my boy. We tried it, and lost half a dozen animals in the attempt. The only thing possible was to advance till we reached an open spot. When all our fellows were across we turned round, and began the march back."

"Bravo, Cordova!" cried my chum, who was bubbling over with laughter.

"Oh, come, wait a bit. You haven't heard the best of the joke yet. We had done nearly half the distance, when we met the head of another squadron that followed us. 'Go back,' we yelled; 'you've missed the proper path.' 'Go back yourselves,' they shouted in reply; 'we can't!' Well, you know, neither party dared move till daybreak; so we stood there, crouching against the rocks and holding on to the animals. We could neither eat nor sleep. The wind flung the snow at us in masses, and we were frozen to the marrow. Some pretty things were said about Cordova before the morning, I can assure you."

"To hear them talk, one would think they were made of sugar!" grunted Cordova.

"It took us four hours the next day to get out of the mess," laughed Plaza, "and then we had to catch up with our division. Altogether, it was a very pleasant incident, though the major here and a few others failed to see the fun."

"But how came Canterac to let you through the passes without a fight?" I asked.

"A case of pride going before a fall, I expect. He thinks to serve us as he did at Torata.—By the way, Crawford, you gave Miller his wrong rank this morning. He's a general now, and chief of all the Peruvian cavalry."

"Bravo, that's grand news! There isn't a better soldier in the army."

"Only he's so fearfully energetic. He'll keep one on the move for sixteen hours, and then suggest a little scouting as a titbit to wind up with," said Cordova.

"You've had a good rest now, anyway."

"We shall pay for it, though."

And Cordova was not far wrong. We had barely fallen asleep when the bugles sounded. The troops rose, and mounted officers dashed about, carrying orders to different squadrons and battalions.

"Breakfast at once; ready to march in an hour," were the commands, and we wondered what information Bolivar had obtained.

Some said one thing, some another, and very soon a fine crop of rumours sprang up. Canterac was advancing with twenty thousand men; his troops had mutinied, and declared for the Patriots; he was retreating hot-foot for Cuzco; he was a prisoner in the hands of the mountain tribes. Every man suggested the event he fancied most, and seemed quite annoyed if one expressed any doubt of its accuracy.

"Just our luck," grumbled Alzura. "I did think we should have had a little rest."

"It's just because you're here that we're moving," laughed Plaza. "Directly Bolivar caught sight of you and Crawford yesterday morning, he determined to march. 'Canterac won't stand against those fellows,' he said."

"Bolivar is a capable fellow and a good judge," said Alzura. "I wonder where General Miller is."

"Went off in the night, reconnoitring with a party of mountaineers. It's wonderful how those wild fellows have taken to him. They'll go anywhere with him. Come along; it's nearly time for us to move, and Bolivar doesn't like to be kept waiting."



CHAPTER XXVI.

THE HUSSARS OF JUNIN.

Contrary to custom, we moved off the ground slowly, marching along with swarms of Indians on our flanks and in front. For once in a way Bolivar had adopted caution instead of the fiery recklessness he usually displayed, and seemed resolved on running no unnecessary risks. Our course lay southward, over very rough, broken ground, and a staff officer informed Plaza we were making for the plains of Junin, to the south of Lake Reyes.

"We shall catch Canterac there," said he, "or Canterac will catch us; I hardly know which at present."

Our bivouac that night was cheerless and uncomfortable. The position was a very strong one, but Bolivar was evidently determined to leave nothing to chance. The sentries were doubled and in some places trebled, so that most of us were unable to snatch more than a few hours' sleep. Early in the morning the journey was resumed, and after a tedious march of fifteen miles through mountainous country we suddenly beheld the Royalist army crossing the plains at our feet. The men, breaking into a thundering "Viva," waved their caps or swung their lances in the air, and the cavalry were ordered to shift their saddles from the mules to the led horses.

"'Twill be a cavalry action," said Plaza, vaulting into his saddle. "Here comes an 'aid' with orders."

"There goes Miller with a squadron," cried Alzura. "We shall be out of it. The Colombian Horse are moving too. We shall be left behind with the infantry."

"Not so fast," said Plaza, laughing, as Bolivar's messenger dashed up to Colonel Suares, who was in charge of our squadron. "Now for it!"

"You won't be quite so eager presently," growled the tough old major. "Look at the ground; see the defile between the swamp and the hills. Canterac can cut us to pieces there, and he's soldier enough to know it."

"No, no, major; his cavalry aren't a patch on ours. We've never had a chance to show our mettle before."

"Well, we shall have one now," said the major, as we began to descend to the plain.

Two Colombian squadrons were in front of us, while Miller was still further ahead and bearing to the left. On the other side of the defile we caught a glimpse now and then of the Royalist cavalry forming up. The ground was so broken that we could only go at a foot-pace, and I began to think the major might be right.

As we entered the defile there came a great shout of "Viva el Rey!" from the plains ahead, and the next instant the Royalist horsemen, thirteen hundred strong, and led by Canterac himself, dashed madly to the attack.

"Viva! viva!" they yelled, cutting and thrusting with sabre and lance. The onset was like a mighty avalanche, and our men were for the most part overwhelmed. A few of the strongest and best mounted cut their way through, but numbers were overthrown, and the rest came flying back, with the victorious Royalists slashing and cutting on all sides.

"By St. Philip," muttered Plaza, "we shall be swept away."

Our colonel, seeing the danger, manoeuvred us into an angle of the marsh, just as the mob of horsemen, friend and foe inextricably mixed, swarmed down, shouting, struggling, fighting.

"Forward! forward!" yelled the exultant Royalists, sweeping past like a whirlwind.

Farther away on the left, another body was driving Miller's men into the swamp, and it seemed that the Patriot cavalry must be annihilated. But our squadron remained untouched, and leading us into the plain, Suares issued an order to charge the Royalists who were handling Miller's troops so roughly.

"We must win or die, my lads!" he cried; "the country depends on us."

The men cheered with a will and shook their sabres; we settled more firmly in our saddles; the colonel rode to the front; the squadron moved forward and broke into a trot. Men and officers alike knew that our leader had spoken no more than the truth. We must win or die! On us alone hung the issue of the battle. If we failed, hardly a man of the Patriot cavalry would leave the field alive; if we won, the Royalists must stop the pursuit in order to help their comrades.

It was a heavy task, but one thought cheered and nerved us. We were all Peruvians belonging to the Legion, and it was but fitting that the desperate venture should fall to us. How our infantry battalion would cheer, how proudly they would greet us, should we return victorious! It would be glorious to show both friends and enemies that the Peruvians could strike a stout blow in their own defence.

"Gallop!"

We received the order with a cheer, bent low in the saddle, and grasped our sabres firmly. Suares knew his work, and led us across a wide stretch of smooth, firm ground, the very spot for a cavalry charge.

Finding themselves between two foes, the Royalists faced about and dashed at us. The shock was tremendous: men and horses were bowled over like ninepins; great gaps appeared in the ranks; men went down and were trampled under foot in the furious fray; there was a ring of steel as sabre clashed with sabre, and the defiant shouts of the combatants mingled with the groans of the wounded.

Reeling and panting, I found myself on the other side of the press. Plaza was there, too, with a dozen of his men. Alzura broke through smiling in spite of a nasty cut across the face, and was followed by many more. Then above the din General Miller's voice was heard, and we flushed with pride.

"Bravo, my boys!" he cried; "I'm proud of you! All the army will sing your praises presently."

Freed from the Royalists, his men had got out of the swamp, and now came to join us. The few Colombians who had cut their way through in the first attack galloped back, and inspirited by General Miller's stern "Hurrah!" we once more flung ourselves on the foe. It was steel to steel now, and the Spaniards stood their ground well till they saw their comrades retreating from the defile. Then, with the exception of a devoted few who stayed in a grim ring around the standard-bearer, they turned to flee.

"The flag!" cried the general; "have at the flag!" And like a torrent in flood, we swept down on the little band.

"Rally to the flag!" cried a voice I knew well, and the next instant I was crossing swords with Santiago Mariano. I do not care much to dwell on this part of the fight. These Royalists were the pick of their squadron, and it seemed as if each man would die where he fought rather than surrender the colours. Three or four times the flag disappeared, but came up again the next instant, and presently I saw it borne aloft by Santiago, who had been forced away from me in the fierce turmoil. Hardly a dozen men remained with him now, and we were all round him.

"Surrender!" cried the general. "It is a pity to kill so brave a man!"

Santiago laughed lightly, dug the spurs deep into his horse's sides, cleared a passage with his sabre, and wheeling his horse by the pressure of his knees, bounded away, crying defiantly,—

"Rally to the flag! Viva el Rey!"

A young Colombian officer levelled his pistol; but Miller struck it up, saying,—

"The odds are heavy enough now. If you want the flag, get it with your sword."

The youngster's face flushed, but he kept his temper, and saluting the general, dashed after Santiago, crying,—

"To me, Colombians!"

As Suares had foreseen, our action gave the beaten squadron a chance to rally; officers and men who had survived the crushing avalanche collected in groups, and the fight was proceeding fiercely on the open plain. Ordering our squadron to re-form, the general placed himself at our head.

Meanwhile, I was watching the gallant Santiago and his handful of men. He was a superb rider, and able to guide his horse without using the reins, thus leaving both hands free. His Royalist comrades, now reunited, were opposite the defile, and too far off to help, while several detachments of Patriot cavalry were hurrying to cut off his retreat. Behind him, too, thundered the hot-headed Colombian officer with a dozen troopers.

"That plucky Royalist officer will be killed," said the general to Colonel Suares. "He's a gallant fellow—eh, Crawford?"

"He is, sir," I answered warmly; "and I'd give anything to see him get through safely."

"Why, Crawford," returned the general, smiling, "that sounds very much like treason."

By this time we ourselves were in motion, but as my place was on the flank, I had a good view of Santiago's desperate venture. A body of Colombians, some twenty strong, had thrown themselves across his path; and though they were our allies, I could hardly keep from cheering as he dashed through them, losing, as far as could be seen, only one man of his little band.