Chapter Ten.
Our Flight—And Subsequent Mystification.
I am fully aware now that in thus persuading the commandant’s daughter and her companion to meet us in the park we were quite inexcusable, and that the fact that they were members of the family of a man who had very materially befriended us should have deterred us from tempting them to act in a clandestine manner such as the father of Inez would certainly have disapproved. And if we had been honourable men it would doubtless have done so. But we were not men, we were simply boys, and thought only of the pleasant companionship. I frankly plead guilty to the charge of deplorable heedlessness. We were as heedless as lads of our age usually are; and, thinking no harm, we at once succumbed to the temptation to neglect the task on which we were employed and to devote ourselves to the society of Inez and her companion. The consequences were, almost as a matter of course, such as an older and more experienced head would at once have foreseen—so far, at least, as Dona Inez and I were concerned—for we discovered that we were as desperately in love as ever boy and girl believed themselves to be.
But at length our rosy dream was rudely broken in upon and our souls filled with consternation by the news that in three days’ time the commandant hoped to be once more at home. We knew at once what that meant. We felt instinctively that, blameless as our love for each other might be, it would meet with no sympathy from Don Luis, nor would he tolerate its continued indulgence for a moment. At first a wild hope sprang up within my heart that such might not be the case; that the fact of my being a British officer might have some weight with the haughty don. But Inez dispelled that hope in a moment.
“No,” she sobbed, “you do not know my father or you would understand that nothing of that kind would influence him in the slightest degree in our favour. He loves me; oh, yes! he loves me more than anything else in the world; and I believe he would do almost anything to secure my happiness—but not that. My father is proud—very proud—of his birth and lineage; and whenever the idea of my marriage may suggest itself to him I am certain he will wish me to wed some noble of at least equal rank with himself. Of you, my poor Leo, he knows nothing save that you are a prisoner; and were you to go to him and plead our cause, not only would he refuse to listen to you, but I greatly fear his anger would fall heavily upon us both. Our only hope, dear Leo, lies in your speedily recovering your freedom, and gaining such distinction in your profession as shall justify you in asking him for my hand.”
“And that is precisely what I will do,” I exclaimed in an ecstasy of mingled hope and despair; “Courtenay and I will make good our escape before your father’s return, even if we have to take to the sea in an open boat.”
“And where would you go in your open boat, supposing that you could secure one, and could make good your escape from the shore?” asked Inez.
“We should head for Jamaica, and take our chance of being picked up by a friendly craft,” I replied.
“And supposing that you were not picked up by a friendly craft?” persisted my fair questioner.
“In that case,” said I rather ruefully, “we should have to push on, taking our chance as to wind and weather, and also as to our being able to hit Jamaica. It is only some twelve hundred miles or so across, and with favourable weather and a good boat we might accomplish the run in from ten days to a fortnight.”
“A fortnight! in an open boat!” exclaimed Inez. “Oh no, Leo, that would never do! You must not attempt it; the risk is far too great. It were better that you should remain here prisoners than that you should lose your lives in any such desperate attempt as that. Let me think. You want to get to Jamaica, do you not? And to get there safely you must be conveyed there in a vessel. Ha! I have it. Eugenia, when does your brother sail?”
“In about a week hence, so he told me yesterday,” was the answer.
“A week hence! that is too late,” exclaimed Inez. “Send for him, and tell him to call at the castle early to-morrow morning, without fail.”
I inquired who and what this brother of Eugenia’s might happen to be, and was informed that he was the owner and master of a small felucca which traded regularly between La Guayra and Santiago de Cuba, and that by a lucky chance his vessel happened at that moment to be lying in the former port. This was eminently satisfactory, as I did not doubt for a moment that an arrangement might be come to whereby we could get him to run us directly across to Port Royal, we of course undertaking to insure him and his craft against capture during the run and on arrival there. There was a fair amount of prize-money due to us from the Jean Rabel affair; and even if it had not yet been awarded I felt certain that we could raise cash enough upon it to defray the expenses of the trip.
On the following morning, whilst we were at the workshop, the two girls made their appearance, accompanied by a hearty, honest-looking young fellow, who was introduced to us as Juan Gonzalez, Eugenia’s brother.
In answer to our inquiries he informed us that he would be quite willing to convey us to Port Royal, and to land us safely there, in consideration of the sum of one hundred dollars, to be paid to him within six hours of our arrival, with the proviso that we should guarantee him against capture during the entire trip, the said sum of one hundred dollars to cover everything, provisions included, and to entitle us to the sole use of the felucca’s cabin during the passage across. These terms we considered exceedingly reasonable, and upon inquiring of him when he would be ready to sail, and being informed that he could start at any moment, we at once closed the bargain. That matter satisfactorily settled we determined upon leaving forthwith, since there was nothing to detain us; and it was then arranged, upon Juan’s suggestion, that instead of making our way into town and boarding the felucca in harbour, we should avoid all risk of capture by taking our departure from a little cove about three miles to the westward of the castle, the felucca calling off the place about nine o’clock that night and sending her boat ashore for us.
As may be supposed, the conclusion of these arrangements threw us all into a state of such excitement that it was quite impossible to think further of work. Courtenay and I therefore hastily put the workshop into something like decent order, wrote a joint note to the commandant—which we left conspicuously displayed on the workshop table—wherein we expressed our most sincere thanks for all the kindness he had shown us, and begged that he would not think too hardly of us for seizing upon an opportunity which had presented itself for our escape.
Now I am painfully aware that—keeping in view our exceeding youthfulness—any reference which it may be necessary for me to make to the mutual attachment subsisting between myself and Dona Inez is liable to be received with a certain amount of gentle ridicule and incredulity. But in deprecating any such reception of my confidential communications I will only say that we ourselves were thoroughly in earnest, and that the prospect of our speedy separation reduced us both to a condition of the keenest anguish and despair. The luncheon hour passed unheededly by, and it was not until the deepening shadows warned us of approaching night that we reluctantly turned our steps castleward, to complete the very trifling preparations necessary for the coming flight.
Courtenay, I was glad to see, was so completely heart-whole that he was in the highest possible spirits; and he did such ample justice to the dinner set before us as in some degree to make up for my own shortcomings in that respect. The meal over we dismissed Pedro for the night, and then proceeded to pack up our dilapidated uniforms in a small parcel, to assist in our identification as British officers should such prove necessary. This brought the time on to about half-past seven, at which hour we had arranged to meet again in the park, Inez having insisted—much against my wish—in accompanying us to the cove and satisfying herself as to the fact of our actual escape.
The walk to the cove was not a long one, only some three miles or so, but it occupied us a full hour and a half, and a very wretched time it proved for both of us.
We reached the place fixed upon as the point for our embarkation at nine o’clock, and a few minutes later a small wavering black blotch appeared through the intense darkness off the entrance. We heard the sound of a coil of rope being flung upon a deck, followed by a creaking of blocks; then a scraping sound and a splash such as would be caused by the launching of a boat over the low gunwale of a small craft, an indistinct murmur of voices for a moment, and then the plash of oars in the water. The distance to be traversed by the boat was not more than three or four hundred feet; I therefore had time only to breathe a hurried and inarticulate word or two of final farewell to Inez, during which I slipped on to her slender finger the only ring I possessed, when a grating sound down by the water’s edge told us that the boat had grounded, and we hurried away down the beach.
The boat was a tiny cockle-shell of a craft, with only one man in her, and he was just hauling her nose up out of the water as we reached him.
“Oh, you are here, excellencies!” he exclaimed in a tone of some little surprise, I thought. “So much the better. Jump in, caballeros, and let us be off; there is another craft creeping down under the land, only a mile or so astern of us, of which el capitano feels somewhat suspicious, and he will be glad to make a good offing before she comes up.”
“All right, my man!” said Courtenay as we tumbled into the stern-sheets of the small craft; “shove off as soon as you like.”
The man placed his shoulder against the stem of the boat and gave her a powerful shove, scrambling in over the bows as she slid stern-foremost into the deep water, and thereby nearly capsizing all hands. However we managed, between us, to keep the boat right side up, and the man seating himself at the oars the craft was slewed round by one powerful stroke until her nose pointed seaward, and away we went, a faint clear silvery cry of “A mas ver! A Dios!” floating after us into the darkness, accompanied by a ghostly flutter of scarcely discernible handkerchiefs. “A Dios!” we shouted back as the two lingering forms vanished in the gloomy shadow of the precipitous slope leading down to the shore; and in another minute or so we shot alongside the felucca and sprang in over her low bulwarks.
“Welcome, gentlemen!” exclaimed the figure who received us. “This is better than I expected. I was afraid we should have been obliged to wait for you; and there is a craft creeping down alongshore there whose movements I do not like. I fear she has been watching us, since she can have no other business down here so close in with the land. However, here you are, so we will bear away at once, if you please; and if he wants to watch us let him follow. It will take a smart craft to overhaul the little Pinta. Perhaps you would like to go below at once and inspect your berths?”
We replied that we should, whereupon he ushered us aft to the small companion, and, cautioning us against the almost perpendicular ladder and the lowness of the beams, shouted to some unseen “Francisco” to show a light below and to attend generally to our wants.
We dived below and entered the small cabin; a gruff order or two on deck, accompanied by a creaking of blocks and gear bearing testimony to the fact that the Pinta was bearing away for the open sea, and that our escape was actually an accomplished fact.
“Francisco” proved to be a bright intelligent lad of some thirteen or fourteen years of age, jauntily rigged in a picturesque costume somewhat similar to that of the Neapolitan fishermen in “Masanielo;” but his shapely features were somewhat marred by the long white cicatrice of an ugly wound across his forehead which showed up with startling distinctness against the somewhat dusky hue of his skin. The wound must have given him a rather narrow squeak for it when it was inflicted; and I was about to question him as to the particulars concerning it when he bustled away, and in a few minutes returned with a couple of bottles of wine and the materials for an excellent supper, which he laid out upon the table and then with a graceful bow invited us to fall to. This diverted our thoughts in another direction. We seated ourselves, and in a very few minutes—I, at least, having eaten scarcely anything at dinner—were thinking of nothing beyond the satisfaction of our appetites.
Before the meal was over the little vessel began to roll and tumble about in such a lively manner as to satisfy us that she was hauling out fast from under the lee of the land, and presently we heard the sharp patter and swish of rain upon the deck overhead. It was by this time past ten o’clock; the two standing berths, one on each side of the small cabin, looked tolerably clean and inviting; so, instead of going on deck as we had originally intended, we turned in, and tried to lose remembrance of the somewhat exciting events of the day in a sound sleep.
The sun was shining brightly down through the diminutive sky-light when I awoke next morning, and the lad Francisco was busy sweeping out the cabin. Seeing me astir he inquired at what time we would choose to have breakfast, to which I answered that we would have it as soon as it could be got ready; but that in the meantime we should be glad to be supplied with water, soap, and towels. These he scuttled away to get, whilst I tumbled out of my bunk and began to dress, calling out at the same time to rouse Courtenay, who was snoring away most melodiously in his berth on the opposite side of the cabin. The little Pinta was lying over a good deal, and the loud gurgling rush of the water past her sides seemed to indicate that she was travelling through it at a fairish speed, whilst the long regular heel to leeward, the steady buoyant soaring motion of the little vessel, with the succeeding recovery and weather-roll and rapid drop as she settled away down into the trough, informed us that we were favoured with a fresh breeze, accompanied by quite a respectable beam-sea. With the exception of an occasional footstep, or a word or two from the vicinity of the binnacle, everything, save for the singing of the wind in the rigging and the hissing of the surges past our lee side, was quiet enough on deck; but below Courtenay and I could scarcely hear each other speak for the noise and clatter; bulk-heads creaking, the crockery in the pantry rattling, the weapons in the rack abaft the table clanking and jarring, and Heaven knows how many other sounds beside.
By the way, those same weapons had attracted my notice on the previous evening, though my thoughts were at the time so much preoccupied with other things that I made no remark about them. Now, however, their persistent clank and clatter forced them so prominently upon our attention that we both burst simultaneously into some exclamation respecting the incongruity of so small a craft being so well provided with arms. So well-furnished indeed was the Pinta in this respect that anyone entering her cabin might naturally have supposed himself to have been on board a privateer, or something worse. In the first place there was a rack stretching right athwart the aftermost bulkhead, in which were stacked a dozen good serviceable-looking muskets, their barrels brightly polished, the stocks carefully oiled, and new flints in every one of the locks. These were flanked on each side by a sheaf of some half a dozen boarding-pikes, the points of which had been ground almost to the sharpness of a needle. Above the muskets, forming a star-shaped trophy, which occupied almost the whole remaining surface of the bulkhead, were a dozen brace of sturdy pistols, their muzzles pointing inward, whilst their butts, all turned one way, formed the outer extremities of the star-rays. These, too, were as bright and clean as it was possible for them to be; and I noticed that, fancifully as they were arranged, they were merely suspended from nails, from which they could be snatched at a moment’s notice. And, finally, over each stand of pikes was arranged another star formed of sheathed cutlasses, with belts and cartridge-pouches attached, all ready, in short, for instant service.
“I cannot for the life of me imagine why our friend Juan should arm his cock-boat like this,” I remarked; “why, there must be enough weapons here for twice the number of men the Pinta carries.”
“Who can tell!” returned Courtenay. “For my part I fancy all Spaniards have very lax notions of commercial morality, and Master Juan may perhaps amuse himself, as opportunity offers or when times are bad, with a little quiet smuggling. Although, even in such a case,” he continued, “I can scarcely see the need for such a formidable armoury; for I should hardly suspect him of the inclination to undertake the risk of running a cargo worth fighting for. Well, shall we go on deck and take a look round before sitting down to breakfast?”
“By all means,” said I; and we were in the very act of ascending the companion-ladder when Francisco made his appearance at its head, coming down stern-foremost, with a coffee-pot in one hand and a smoking dish of broiled fish in the other, so we had to give way for him or run an imminent risk of being scalded.
“El capitano kisses your hands, excellencies,” said the lad, as he laid his double burden on the table, “and he hopes you have both slept well.”
“Admirably,” I answered, adding, as I looked at the appetising dish which sent up its grateful odours from the table, “Put out another plate, knife and fork, and so on; and tell ‘el capitano’ that we shall be very pleased if he will join us at breakfast.”
The lad stared at us in mute astonishment for a moment, flushing like a bashful girl meanwhile. Then, recovering himself, he muttered: “I will tell him, gentlemen; he will feel himself highly honoured.”
“That is all right,” laughed Courtenay, as the lad slid up the companion; “a very right and proper feeling, though I scarcely know why he should experience it.”
A minute later a heavy tramp was audible coming along the deck. The sunlight streaming down through the open companion suffered a temporary eclipse; a pair of legs, encased in enormous sea-boots, presented themselves to our admiring gaze, and finally a huge fellow of fully six feet in height, and broad in proportion, came towards us, bowing and stooping in the most awkward manner, partly by way of salutation and partly to avoid striking his head against the low deck-beams. He was dark-complexioned, bushy whiskered, with keen restless black eyes, and a shock of ebon hair very imperfectly concealed by a black-and-red-striped fisherman’s cap of knitted worsted, which he removed deferentially the moment his eye fell upon us. He wore large gold ear-rings in his ears, and was attired in a thick dreadnought jacket over a black-and-red-striped shirt, which was confined about his waist by a broad leather belt, to which was attached a sheath-knife of most formidable dimensions. The skirts of the shirt were worn outside his trousers, so that his tout ensemble was exactly that of a dashing pirate or smuggler bold, as that interesting individual is presented on the boards of a third-rate transpontine theatre of the present day. He was a picturesque-looking person enough, but he certainly was not Juan Gonzalez, to whom he bore no more resemblance than I did.
Courtenay and I glanced at each other in surprise, but neither of us said a word.
“Muchisimos gracias for your honoured invitation, excellencies,” said our friend, again bowing awkwardly, as he slid into a seat at the head of the table, leaving Courtenay and me to stow ourselves on the lockers, one on each side of him. “I am gratified to learn from Francisco that you rested soundly during the night I was afraid the motion of the felucca would prove disagreeable to you. We have had a fine breeze from the eastward all night, and La Guayra is now nearly a hundred miles astern of us.”
“That is good news,” I remarked. “But why should you have anticipated any evil results to us from the motion of the craft? Are you not aware that we are pretty well seasoned sailors?”
“No,” said our companion; “I was not aware of it. When I urged the captain-general to send naval officers I understood him to say that he had none available for the service, but that he would send two officers of marines. I did not like his proposal, and I am very glad to find that he has thought better of it. What can a soldier—even though he be a marine—know about soundings, and bearings, and sea-marks? And the entrance to the place is very difficult indeed, as you will see, gentlemen, when we come to it.”
“What in the world is the man talking about?” thought I, glancing across the table at Courtenay to see what he thought of it. That irrepressible young gentleman elevated his eyebrows inquiringly, tipped me a wink of preternatural significance with his left eye—our host was sitting on Courtenay’s starboard hand—and then devoted himself most assiduously to the red snapper off which he was breakfasting.
“How long do you reckon it will take us to make the run?” I asked, with the view of maintaining the conversation rather than because of my comprehension of it.
“Well,” said our picturesque friend, “let me reckon. To-day is Thursday. If this breeze holds steady we ought to be off Cape Irois about daybreak next Wednesday morning. Then, unless the wind heads us, we may hope to weather Cape Maysi about sunset the same day; after which we may expect to have the breeze well on our starboard quarter, which will enable us to complete the run in good time to pass through the Barcos Channel and reach our anchorage before nightfall on the following Friday evening.”
“Ah!” remarked Courtenay, as coolly as though he fully understood the whole drift of this singular conversation, “a little over a week, if the weather remains favourable. When you say that the entrance is difficult, do you refer to the Barcos Channel more particularly or to—?”
“Oh no!” was the reply; “that is easy enough—for a small vessel of light draught, that is to say—although there are one or two awkward places there which I will point out to you; but it is the entrance to the lagoon itself which will give you the most trouble.”
“Precisely; that is what we have been given to understand,” said Courtenay, addressing himself to us both. “I presume you have a chart of the place?”
“No,” said our friend; “the place has never yet been surveyed, and Giuseppe will not permit anyone to sound anywhere within the entrance to the lagoon. I told the captain-general this when he asked me the same question. Did he not mention this to you?”
“No, he did not,” said Courtenay, with all the seriousness imaginable; “he never said a word to me about it. Did he mention it to you?” with a glance across the table at me.
“Not a word,” said I. “I suppose he forgot it in his hurry. You must understand,” I continued, turning to the unknown one, “that so far as we are concerned, this business has been arranged in the most hurried manner, and we must look to you for enlightenment upon any points which the captain-general may have omitted to explain to us.”
“Oh, yes! assuredly, señors, assuredly,” was the satisfactory reply. “It is part of my bargain, you know.”
“Quite so,” chimed in Courtenay. “And if, as my friend and I talk the matter over, we happen to come to something which is not altogether clear, we will not fail to apply to you. By the by, do you happen to have such a thing as a decent cigar on board this smart little felucca of yours?”
Our interlocutor glanced from one to the other of us with a merry twinkle in his eye, as though Courtenay’s innocent inquiry veiled the best joke he had heard for a long time.
“A decent cigar!” said he. “Ha! ha! if I have not, then I don’t know where else you should look for one, gentlemen. Allow me.” And, pushing past me to the after part of the locker, he raised a lid and produced a box of weeds which he laid upon the table. Then, with an awkward bow, he said, as he made for the companion-ladder:
“If you have finished breakfast, gentlemen, I will send Francisco down to clear the table.”