Chapter Thirteen.
Jack grows desperate.
By a lucky chance it happened that Don Ramon was at home when Jack reached the house, and the young man was accordingly conducted to the room in which his Spanish friend usually transacted his business.
At sight of his visitor Don Ramon flung down his pen and grasped Jack by the hand.
“Well,” he exclaimed, “what is it? You have picked up some news at last, I can see; and it is bad news, I fear, by the look of you. Or is it that you are ill? Por Dios, man, you look as though you might be dying! Here, sit down, and let me ring for some cognac.”
“No, no,” said Jack, “I need no cognac, or anything else, thanks; but I have just gained some news of our poor friends, and bad news it is, as you shall hear.” And thereupon he related all that had passed at the restaurant, repeating Alvaros’ words as nearly verbatim as he could remember them.
“Oh, the despicable villain, the atrocious scoundrel!” exclaimed Don Ramon, when Singleton had come to the end of his narrative. “But do you really believe that the part of his story relating to the Señorita Isolda is true? May it not be that it is merely the empty boast of an inordinately vain man? There are individuals, you know, who pride themselves on that sort of thing.”
“So I believe,” answered Jack, “though, thank God, it has never been my misfortune to be brought into contact with any of them until now. No; I am afraid that the story is only too true. The scoundrel, being Governor of the prison, would have the power to—to—do what he says he did, and the mere fact that he boasted of it seems pretty strong evidence that he also had the will. I am therefore afraid that—that—oh, hang it! this won’t do; I must pull myself together or I shall be fit for nothing.”
“That is very true,” acquiesced Don Ramon; “when a man is going out to fight another he must not allow his nerves to be upset by giving way to violent emotion. Now, have you decided upon what weapons you will fight with? Being the challenged party, you know, you have the choice of weapons.”
“Have I?” said Jack wearily. “Why, yes, of course, I suppose I have. But I have not given a ghost of a thought to the question of weapons. One thing is certain: I don’t wish to kill Alvaros, for, of course, Carlos will want to have a turn with him as soon as he can get the chance, and he would, quite rightly, be furious with me if I were to balk him. But neither do I wish him to kill me, for that would entirely upset all my plans. What I should like to do would be to give him a tremendous punishing without endangering his life. I suppose it would not be good form to choose fists as the weapons, would it?”
Don Ramon laughed. “I scarcely know whether or not it would be ‘good form’ to insist on fighting with your bare fists,” he said, “but I know that it would be most unusual. Still, I am not sure that its singularity would constitute an insuperable bar to its acceptance by the seconds. At any rate there will be no harm in offering the suggestion to de Albareda; he is a thorough good fellow all through, and you may safely leave yourself in his hands. But, if you will pardon me for saying so, my young friend, it appears to me that you are acting somewhat quixotically in sparing this blackguard in order that your friend Carlos may be able to take a hand in his punishment. If the quarrel were mine, I should choose pistols, and shoot the fellow dead, thus making sure of him. Besides, do you suppose that poor Carlos will ever have a chance to get away from Fernando Po, when once they have got him there?”
“He never will get there; neither he nor any of the rest of the family,” said Jack, his eye brightening as the thought of his great adventure came into his mind. “I have already decided what to do, so far as they are concerned. I shall follow that convict ship, and take the Montijos out of her.”
“But, my dear boy,” remonstrated Bergera, “you cannot possibly do that, you know. It would be an act of piracy on the high seas!”
“I don’t care the value of a brass button what it is,” declared Jack, “I am going to do it; and I will take my chance of being hanged for it afterwards. But it will not be piracy, for I shall do the trick under the Cuban flag—the flag of Cuba Libre, and I shall therefore be a belligerent, not a pirate. And, as to shooting Alvaros dead—I certainly will not do that if I can possibly help it, for such a punishment as that would be altogether too light for the atrocious crime of which he has been guilty, upon his own confession.”
“Very well,” said Don Ramon; “you must do as you please, both in that and the other matter, for I see that you have already made up your mind in both cases. I am glad that you came straight to me with your news, although it is of such a dreadful character: for, now that we have Alvaros’ statements that our poor, unhappy friends are in La Jacoba, and that they are to leave for Fernando Po on Sunday, I shall know how and where to prosecute my enquiries; and it is very essential that we should assure ourselves of the truth of both statements, otherwise your attempt at rescue may miss fire, after all. Now, I suppose you will fight that villain to-morrow morning at daybreak. If so, do me the favour of coming here to early breakfast with me at eight o’clock; you can then tell me what has happened, and I, for my part, shall by that time be in a position to tell you definitely how much of Alvaros’ story is true.”
“Certainly,” answered Jack; “I will come with pleasure. And meanwhile I suppose I ought to be getting back to the yacht, to be ready to receive de Albareda. So, good-bye! See you to-morrow.”
It was nearly three o’clock when Singleton reached the Thetis; but in answer to his enquiries he was informed that no stranger had visited the ship. He therefore spent the entire afternoon in posting Milsom on the position of affairs generally, and discussing with him Jack’s plan for the rescue of the Montijos from the convict steamer; which plan, by the way, Milsom pronounced to be quite feasible, stating that, like Jack, he was fully prepared to go through with it, piracy or not. And therewith he began to congratulate himself upon his foresight in employing his spare time in the preparation of his wonderful disguise for the yacht, an opportunity to use which he had been awaiting with steadily-growing impatience.
It was past five o’clock when the steam pinnace appeared approaching the yacht, with de Albareda in the stern-sheets; and that officer explained his delay by stating that he had been obliged to go on duty during the afternoon, and had only just escaped therefrom. He plunged at once into the business on hand by reminding Jack that the choice of weapons was his, and asking him whether he had yet decided what he would use. He was at first inclined to be somewhat annoyed when Jack explained with earnestness that he would prefer to fight with fists only, for he was a man who had a profound respect for the duello, which he considered ought to be conducted with all due formality and dignity; but finally burst into a fit of hearty laughter at the absurdity—as he regarded it—of two men attempting to settle a serious quarrel by pommelling each other like a brace of schoolboys. He admitted that, if Jack chose to insist upon fists as weapons, he would be strictly within his rights, but dwelt, as Don Ramon also had done, upon the unusual character of such a demand, and strongly hinted at his own partiality for pistols; whereupon Jack gracefully conceded the point and agreed that pistols it should be. The remaining details were speedily settled, the hour arranged being sunrise on the following morning, and the place the Botanical Gardens. Then de Albareda went ashore again to interview Alvaros’ second and apprise him of the nature of the arrangements, promising to return to the yacht in time for dinner, and spend the night on board. And a very pleasant, genial fellow he proved to be; and a very agreeable evening Jack, Milsom, and he spent together.
There are many more cheerful places in the world than the Havana Botanical Gardens just at sunrise, for at that hour the mists lie chill and heavy upon the ground, the grass is saturated with dew, and the numerous trees not only freely bespatter everything beneath their widespreading branches with copious showers of dewdrops, as the wind sweeps through them, but many of them have a trick of assuming a singularly weird and uncanny appearance in the first faint light of the early dawn; yet Jack felt quite happy, not to say exhilarated, as he and his friend the Colonel of Cuirassiers stepped briskly along the dew-sodden gravel paths on their way to the rendezvous, which was an open, grassy space in the south-west corner of the Gardens. Albareda had been assiduously coaching his principal, ever since leaving the yacht, in the etiquette of the duello as observed by the Spanish army, until he considered that he had made his companion letter-perfect; and now he was giving Jack a few last words of caution and admonition before standing him up to be shot at.
“There is no doubt in my mind,” said he, “that Alvaros intends to kill you, if he can; for what you said to him yesterday has evidently sunk into his mind and made him afraid of you. Therefore you must be careful to fire sharp upon the word, or he will have you, for—to give the fellow his due—he is rather a neat and quick hand with the pistol. The word will be given thus: ‘One—two—three!’ and at the word ‘three’ you must pull trigger. And I should recommend you to look him straight between the eyes from the moment that you are posted, otherwise he may attempt to play some trick with you, such as firing a fraction of a second before the proper time, or something of that sort. Ah, here we are, first on the ground, thank goodness, with a full two minutes to spare! Only just managed it, however, for”—looking back along the path by which they had come—“here come the other fellows, and the surgeon with them. How are you feeling? Quite cool and comfortable? Good; that is excellent!”
The conditions were simple: the duellists were to exchange not more than three shots, at a distance of twelve paces, and were to fire at the word of command; and at the last moment it was agreed, at Albareda’s suggestion, that if either of the combatants fired before the word of command, he was to be penalised by his antagonist being given the privilege of an extra shot at him. It was evident to all that this condition was exceedingly distasteful to Alvaros; yet he could not complain, or refuse its acceptance, since it imposed no hardship whatever upon the man who intended to fight fair. These matters being arranged, the ground was selected, the utmost care being taken that neither combatant had the slightest advantage over the other in the matter of light; the distance was paced off, and the men placed.
“Now,” said Albareda, who was to give the word, “I shall count three steadily, thus: ‘One—two—three!’ and at the word ‘three’—but not before, remember—you may pull trigger. Now, are you both quite ready? Then—one—two—three!”
Jack most carefully observed every one of the instructions given him by his second, including that which referred to looking his antagonist steadily between the eyes, and he quickly saw that this simple proceeding had a most disconcerting effect upon Alvaros, whose return gaze at once became shifty and uncertain; the result being that the Spaniard’s bullet flew wide, while Jack’s, aimed by a hand as steady as a rock, struck Alvaros’ right elbow, completely shattering the bone and inflicting an injury that the surgeon, at a first glance, thought would probably stiffen the arm for the remainder of its owner’s life, to the extent of very seriously disabling him. Under these circumstances Alvaros’ second expressed himself satisfied, and declined any further shots; whereupon Jack and his friend left the ground and went their respective ways, Jack back to the yacht, and the Colonel of Cuirassiers to his quarters.
By the time that Jack got back on board the Thetis it was nearly seven o’clock, and the crew were busily engaged in performing the ship’s toilet for the day, spreading the awnings, and so on; he therefore retired to the interior of the deck-house with Milsom, and arranged with that individual that he should spend the day in filling the bunkers “chock-a-block” with coal, taking in fresh water, laying in a supply of fresh meat, vegetables, and fruit for sea, and generally preparing to go out of harbour on the following day. Then, a thought suddenly striking him, he wired to Calderon, directing him to pack and dispatch forthwith to the yacht all the wearing apparel of every description that he could find, belonging to any of the members of the Montijo family; the boxes to arrive at Havana next day, without fail, not later than by the mid-day train. This done, he hurried away to keep his breakfast appointment with Don Ramon Bergera, whom he found awaiting him in a somewhat anxious frame of mind lest anything untoward should have resulted from the duel. Reassured on this point, Don Ramon chatted with Jack upon indifferent subjects until breakfast was served and the servants had been dismissed, when he said:
“You are no doubt anxious to learn the result of the enquiries into the truth of Alvaros’ story which I undertook to make, yesterday afternoon. Well, I can tell you this: I have ascertained, beyond all possibility of doubt, that the Montijos are, as that scoundrel stated, in La Jacoba; and also that they are all to be shipped off to Fernando Po by the steamer El Marañon, which steamer is appointed to leave the harbour on Sunday next. But by whose authority they are being thus summarily dealt with, I cannot understand, or ascertain; the only thing which is quite certain being that they have not been tried or convicted publicly. That, however, is nothing, for it is common knowledge that scores—indeed, I may say hundreds—of people who have been suspected of disloyalty to the Government have mysteriously vanished, from time to time, and have never again been heard of. In the light of what we now know, however, there is little doubt in my mind that they have all been sent either to Ceuta or to Fernando Po. Poor Cuba! She is indeed a downtrodden country, and it is little wonder that her people are at last rising up in arms against the atrocious system of tyranny and misgovernment under which they are groaning. The Capitan-General is a good man, and means well, I believe: but he is weak, and is moreover hampered and embarrassed to the point of helplessness by the multiplicity of impossible instructions which he receives from home; and, furthermore, he is in the hands of a number of unscrupulous, overbearing subordinates who have arrogated to themselves almost autocratic powers, and who act upon their own responsibility, without consulting him. I believe this is what has occurred in the case of the Montijos: this fellow Alvaros has somehow managed to work himself into a position of very considerable power, and I have little doubt that he, and he only, is responsible for the whole shameful business, which, in my opinion, has been neither more nor less than a determined but unsuccessful attempt to force the unhappy Señorita Isolda into a marriage with him!”
“Well,” said Jack grimly, “he is going to repent of that business in sackcloth and ashes before he dies; he has received his first instalment of punishment this morning, and there is more in store for him!”
“By the way,” said Don Ramon, “what do you propose to do with the Montijos when you have rescued them, in the event of this mad scheme of yours proving successful?”
“Oh,” said Jack, “I haven’t thought of that, thus far! Of course it will be for Don Hermoso to decide where he will go and what he will do when we have got him and his safely out of the convict ship. I imagine that he will be anxious to return to his own place and take care of his property, if he can. But, if not, he can always find safety in Jamaica.”
“Y–es,” assented Don Ramon doubtfully; “that is of course all right, so far as it goes. But the chances are that Alvaros’ next move will be to procure the confiscation of Don Hermoso’s property, and secure its possession to himself. Now, just let us consider that point for a moment. Should that happen, what will poor Don Hermoso do?”
“I know what I should do in such a case,” said Jack. “I should return to my property, and if Alvaros happened to be in possession of it—well, it would be so much the worse for Alvaros, that’s all! I tell you, Don Ramon, that in the struggle which is just now beginning in this island, it is the bold, strong men who are going to ‘come out on top’, as the Yankees say; and in the course of the next month or two the Spanish Government will have its hands so full that it will have no time to deal with individuals.”
“Yes,” said Don Ramon with decision, “I believe you are quite right there, my young friend, and probably the most daring policy will be the safest for all Cubans to pursue. Yes, there are possibilities in that idea of yours, I believe; but I must think it over at greater leisure than I have to spare for it just now. Meanwhile, it will manifestly be very advantageous for Don Hermoso to know precisely how affairs stand, and what are the latest developments, before he attempts to return to his home. I will therefore— By the way, how long do you anticipate that it will take you to effect the rescue?”
“Quite impossible to say,” answered Jack. “The Marañon will no doubt keep the Cuban coast close aboard until she gets as far east as, say, Cavana Point, and then steer about midway between Great Inagua and Hayti, keeping to the southward of all the banks, and so passing into the open Atlantic, probably ‘taking her departure’, in the navigator’s sense of the term, from Cape Viejo Français, on the northern coast of Hayti, and striking thence, as straight across as she can go, to Fernando Po. It is my intention to go to sea to-morrow, or next day, perhaps, and lie in wait for her; after which I shall follow her at a sufficient distance to avoid arousing the suspicions of the captain, and pounce upon her at the first favourable opportunity that presents itself. But probably, if all goes well with us, they will be free again in a fortnight from to-day.”
“Upon my word,” said Don Ramon, laughing, “it is positively exhilarating to hear the confident tone in which you talk; you are actually inveigling me into the indulgence of some sort of ridiculous hope that your enterprise will be successful! Now, let us talk for a moment or two as though that hope were going to be realised. When you have accomplished the rescue of our friends, you had better put into some Cuban port where your yacht is not known, and communicate with me by telegraph. Now, what would be the best place for you to call at?”
“Really,” said Jack, “I don’t think it matters very much; the Thetis has been into practically every port in Cuba, but that is no reason why she should not enter any of them again. For you must remember that it will be some time before the escape of the Montijo family is known; probably not until the Marañon has travelled all the way to Fernando Po and back—if she is indeed to return to Havana, which, by the way, is by no means certain. How would Guantanamo do?”
“Guantanamo would do very well indeed,” answered Don Ramon. “Yes; Guantanamo let it be. Now, the next matter to be considered is the question of a cipher in which to communicate, for of course it goes without saying that a cipher of some sort must be used; it would never do for such treasonable correspondence as we have in our minds to be carried on in plain language, capable of being understood by every telegraph clerk or letter-sorter through whose hands it may chance to pass. You don’t happen to be acquainted with any first-class cipher, I suppose?”
“Yes, I do, if I can but recall it to mind,” said Jack. “I met with it in a book some time ago, and it struck me as being especially good from the fact that it consisted entirely of figures, and that it was not necessary to use precisely the same figures every time to represent any particular letter; hence it seems impossible for anyone to decipher it without the key. Now, let me consider: how did it go? Something like this, I think. Can you let me have a pencil and a sheet of paper?”
Don Ramon produced the articles required, and Singleton set to work with them. Presently he glanced up with an exclamation of satisfaction. “Yes,” he said, “that is right; I thought I had not forgotten it. This is how it goes:” and he proceeded to explain the system to Don Ramon.
“Excellent!” exclaimed the latter; “nothing could be better, for it is absolutely safe. Very well, Señor, we will use this cipher, then, in communicating with each other; and you will wire to me upon your arrival at Guantanamo. Meanwhile, I will make it my business to watch the course of events here, and be prepared to furnish you with all the news as soon as I hear of your return. Now, is there anything else remaining to be arranged?”
They both considered for several minutes, and at length came to the conclusion that there was not. Whereupon, breakfast having been by this time dispatched, Jack rose and took his leave, laden down with kind and encouraging messages for the Montijos, to be delivered when the rescue of the family should have been accomplished.
From Don Ramon’s house Jack made his way to the British Consulate, where he bade farewell to the Consul, explaining to that gentleman that he was tired of shore life, and intended to go to sea for a change; and that, further, he did not in the least know whether he should return, or whether he should decide to go home.
“If you will take my advice, young gentleman,” said the Consul, “you will go home—and stay there; or, at least, you will stay away from Cuba until all these troubles are over.”
Jack promised that he would give that advice his most careful consideration; after which he bade his fellow-countryman adieu, and made his way aboard the yacht, where Milsom was found busily arranging to take the Thetis alongside a coal hulk as soon as the water lighter had cast off. The remainder of that day was a busy time for both men, for Milsom still had his clearance to effect, and all the stores to receive; while Jack spent the afternoon at the railway station awaiting the arrival of the baggage, the due dispatch of which Calderon had notified to him by telegraph. It arrived late in the afternoon, and was taken straight aboard the yacht, where it was placed at haphazard in the cabins lately occupied by the various members of the Montijo family. Then, when at length the bustle of preparation was ended, and the yacht was in condition to leave at a moment’s notice, Jack and Milsom adjourned to the chart-house to discuss those matters which were to ensue upon the departure of the Thetis from Havana harbour.
“Now,” said Singleton, as he took from a drawer in the chart case a large-scale chart of Cuba, and laid it on top of the case, “how long do you suppose it will take you to effect the transmogrification of this ship by means of that disguise of yours?”
“Well,” answered Milsom, “seeing that I have never yet rigged the arrangement, I am not prepared to say, to half an hour or so, just how long it will take. I reckon that, under favourable conditions, it ought to be done in about four hours; but, to make all certain, suppose we call it twelve hours. That ought to suffice and at the same time leave a sufficient margin for any small alterations that may be necessary. You seem just a little bit inclined to sneer at my ‘wonderful’ disguise, Master Jack; but you had better wait until you have seen it before you do that. I venture to remind you that I am a Navy man, and, as such, I know a thing or two about disguising ships: I’ve had a little experience in that direction during the carrying out of manoeuvres; and I am prepared to make a bet that if you—not knowing anything about the arrangement, mind you—were to pass this vessel, in her disguised condition, within half a mile, you would never recognise her.”
“All right, Phil, old chap, don’t get your back up! I’ll take your word for it that the thing is all right,” said Jack. “And if I seemed to speak disparagingly of your contrivance, forgive me, old man, will you? I’ve had a good deal to worry me lately, and I’m afraid that both my nerves and my temper are a bit on edge; but I daresay I shall feel better when we get to sea again and can start to circumvent the Spanish Government, or at least that part of it which is responsible for the misrule and shameful injustice which are rampant in Cuba. Now, I think I understood you to say that you require quiet water to enable you to rig this disguising arrangement, so I propose to go to sea to-morrow—which will be Thursday—and run down the coast to the eastward in search of a secluded spot in which we can effect our transformation without being interfered with or overlooked by anybody. Now, let us have a look at the chart.”
“There ought not to be very much difficulty in finding a suitable spot,” remarked Milsom, as the pair bent over the sheet. “Ah,” he continued, laying his finger upon the paper, “here we are! This should be a perfectly ideal place; just sufficient water, a lee to shelter under, and very little likelihood of being disturbed at our work. We can go in here through the Boca de Sagua la Grande, haul up to the south-east, and come to anchor in this little bight in two and a quarter fathoms of water. And when our preparations are complete we can go out to sea again by way of the Boca de Maravillas, thus avoiding the observation of the people who tend the light on Hicacal Cay, who will be sure to notice us as we go in. By the way, I picked up a rather useful little item of information while I was ashore this afternoon. I fell in with the harbour-master, who seems quite a decent sort of chap, as Spaniards go; he and I have gradually grown to be rather chummy since we have been in harbour here, and upon the strength of the fact that I was clearing for sea I took him into that place on the quay yonder and cracked a farewell bottle of wine with him. As we emptied the bottle we yarned together upon various topics; and by and by he made some casual mention of the Marañon, to which I replied by saying that she had the appearance of being rather a fast vessel, and that I thought it a pity that her skipper did not take a little more pride in her appearance and smarten her up a bit by giving her a lick of paint occasionally. He shrugged his shoulders and asked: What would I? The ship was a convict ship, and her appearance was a matter of no consequence. As to her speed, she could steam twelve knots, but her most economical speed was eight, and he opined that eight knots would therefore be her pace on the trip to Fernando Po, for which reason he rather pitied the unfortunate convicts who were doomed to travel in her, for she had the reputation of being a most uneasy ship in a seaway. I also ascertained from him that she is timed to sail at two o’clock on Sunday afternoon, which should bring her off our hiding-place about—let me see—yes, about seven o’clock on Monday morning. Now, if her skipper should chance to keep the coast pretty close aboard, as he possibly may, we ought to catch a glimpse of her from our masthead as she goes past: but if, on the other hand, he should push her off into mid-channel, to get the full benefit of the current, I think our best plan will be to allow her, say, four hours for delay in starting, and then follow until we sight her, when our further actions can be governed by circumstances. So I have instructed Perkins to pass the word round among the deck hands for everybody to take a good look at her, so that they may know her again when they see her.”
“Good!” exclaimed Jack. “That is excellent; the news is well worth a bottle of wine. You don’t think, I suppose, that your friend had any suspicion of our intention, and deliberately told you all that for the purpose of misleading you?”
“Not he,” answered Milsom confidently; “he is too simple a chap to conceive any such suspicion as that. Besides, why should he? We have done nothing to lead even the most suspicious Spaniard to connect our departure with that of El Marañon. Oh, no! what he told me slipped out in the most casual way in the ordinary course of conversation, and you may be sure that I was particularly careful not to question him, or to say anything which might lead him to suppose that I took the least interest in the movements of the ship.”
“Well,” said Jack, “we must hope for the best; but I am horribly anxious, Phil, lest anything should go wrong with this scheme of ours. So much depends upon its success, you know. By the way, what about a pilot for this place where we are going to transform the ship? How shall we manage about him?”
“We shall not need to ‘manage’ at all,” answered Milsom, “for the simple reason that we shall not take a pilot. If we get under way at about eight o’clock to-morrow morning we shall reach our destination with several hours of daylight in hand; and with the help of this chart, a hand aloft on the foremast, and two leadsmen in the forechains, I will guarantee to take this little hooker in and out of that berth without so much as scratching her paint. Oh, no, we shall not take a pilot, who might possibly go back to Havana and set people wondering what the mischief was our object in slipping in behind Esquivel del Norte cay!”