"Forward, March": A Tale of the Spanish-American War

by Kirk Munroe

CHAPTER XII

DENOUNCED BY A FRIEND

Under the circumstances, Ridge felt that a frank avowal of his personality and present plans would be wiser than any attempt at deception, and this he proceeded to make. To all that he had to tell the bandit leader paid closest attention, and listened without a word of interruption until the narrative was finished. Then he said:

"It is indeed great news that the Americans are about to invade Cuba. Until now they have promised much and done worse than nothing, since, by their blockade of Cuban ports, they have only starved to death thousands of miserable reconcentrados. Now if they will proceed with judgment and are not swept off by fevers, something may be accomplished. At the same time, from the ignorance displayed in sending on so important a mission as yours one so ill equipped for it, I cannot hope for much from them."

Ridge flushed hotly. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean," replied the other, coolly rolling a cigarette as he spoke, "that you have shown yourself to be about as fit for the duty you have undertaken as a babe in arms. Did you not, upon landing, waste a whole hour of precious darkness during which you might have gained a safe distance from the always-guarded coast? Did you not allow yourself to be betrayed by your horse, and captured without resistance? Did you not lose your despatches at the outset, and almost your life as well? Are you not at this moment densely ignorant of the route you are to travel, and of how to meet the enemies you will encounter on every hand?

"Yes, my friend, brave and resolute as you may be, you are also but a babe in your undertaking. Your only forethought lay in securing the countersign of the Junta, which has for the moment saved your life, since I should certainly have caused you to be shot but for it. Also, if I had not discovered you, the Spanish hawks who patrol the coast would have had you in their clutches a few minutes later. Nor do you at this moment know how to find your way to Holguin, much less to Santiago."

"But," argued Ridge, whose self-conceit and confidence in his own ability to carry out the mission he had so bravely undertaken were rapidly oozing away, "I have a good map of the country, a good horse, plenty of money with which to hire guides, am well armed, and could make a good fight if necessary. I speak Spanish perfectly, am dark of complexion, possess the countersign of the Junta for Cubans, and letters from the chief of the Spanish secret service for Spaniards. Why, then, may I not succeed as well as another?"

"You had those things; but, with the exception of your ability to speak Spanish, your darkness of skin, and the countersign, all of them have been taken from you."

"But you will restore them?"

"And if I should, would they serve you? Do you imagine that any true Cuban would disclose to an utter stranger the military secrets of his country for money? If you do, you are sadly mistaken. Could you fight an enemy who would lie in ambush and shoot you in the back, reserving the examination of your despatches until you were dead? Even should you succeed in presenting those same despatches to a Spanish general, do you not know that he would hold you prisoner, or at least delay your departure until he had transmitted them to Havana for verification? Yet you hope to gain a complete knowledge of the military situation in this great province, and rejoin your friends more than a hundred miles away within a week. Amigo, you are very ignorant."

"Possibly I am," admitted Ridge, "but I have learned much from you within a short time; and if you will let me go, I will still undertake to accomplish my task within the time allotted to me."

"I admire your spirit," replied del Concha, "and will gladly release you, with all your property restored; but before so doing I wish to make some suggestions. In the first place, your people should have chosen an intelligent Cuban for this work--a man like myself, for instance."

Ridge was on the point of saying that his superior officers had feared to trust a Cuban, but prudently refrained from so doing.

"As they did not have the sense for that," continued the speaker, "it is most fortunate that you have met me, for I can give you, in a few words, the position and strength of every Spanish force in the province, as well as the location and condition of the Cuban armies, to which I will also gladly forward news of the anticipated American landing. Thus you will be free to make your way, directed by guides whom I will furnish, straight to Santiago without encountering any dangers other than those incident to travel through a rough country."

"While thanking you for your kind offer," replied Ridge, "I must still decline it. My orders are to communicate directly with the Spanish commanders at Holguin and Jiguani, and I shall certainly attempt to carry them out, since the first lesson taught every American soldier is that of absolute and unquestioning obedience to orders."

"My dear Lieutenant!" exclaimed del Concha--for this was the rank that Ridge had seen fit to assume--"I begin to perceive why you were chosen for this hopeless task, and though I utterly disapprove your proposed course of action, I cannot but admire your resolution. Also I cannot find it in my heart to leave you to your own helpless devices. Therefore I shall accompany you to the vicinity of Holguin. Then I shall at least be on hand to learn your fate as soon as it is decided."

Willing as he would have been to set forth alone, Ridge was glad to have the company of one so familiar with the country as del Concha appeared, and one also whom he believed he might trust. His confidence in the acquaintance thus strangely made was strengthened a little later as they rode together, and the latter, in answer to his questions, disclosed a portion of his own history.

"I came to this place last evening," he said, "in the hope of getting a few shots at the Spanish lancha, which, as I told you, patrols the coast twice daily; for Spaniards have become so scarce of late, and confine themselves so closely to the larger towns, that it is sometimes difficult to maintain my record of one for each day."

"What do you mean?" asked Ridge.

"I mean that during the past year I have personally killed, or caused to be killed, a Spanish soldier for each day that has passed."

The young American regarded his companion with horror.

"Moreover," continued the other, coolly, "I have sworn to maintain that average so long as I live and the present war continues. When I found you this morning I thought my duty for the day was accomplished, but now it is with pleasure that I shall look elsewhere for my dead Spaniard of this date."

"Are all Cubans animated by your spirit?" asked Ridge, whose soul revolted at this calm discussion of what seemed to him cold-blooded murder.

"All who have suffered what I have are, or should be, filled with my longing for vengeance," answered del Concha. "Listen. The ruined plantation we have just left was my home. There I was born. There in the care of a loving father and a devoted mother, in company with a brother who was older than I, and a younger sister, I grew up. In spite of cruel taxation, we were wealthy; in spite of unrighteous laws, we were happy. Finally Spain's oppression of Cuba became unbearable, and the war to throw it off was begun. My father refused to take part in the rebellion, but my brother joined the insurgents and was killed in battle. I took his place; and, because his sons aided the insurrection, my noble father, still loyal to Spain, was seized by the Spaniards and thrown into prison. Two days later, without trial or previous warning, he was shot to death in the prison-yard.

"For giving bread to starving women and children whose husbands and fathers fought in the Cuban army, my mother and sister were driven from their home to the nearest city, where the former, always delicate, died, literally of starvation, and from which my sister disappeared, so that I do not know her fate. At that time, also, our house was stripped by the soldiers of everything that could be carried away, and then burned. It is for this record of crime that I determined to spare no Spaniard who should come within my reach."

"I am afraid," said Ridge, slowly, with a clear vision of his own dear home and its loved inmates in his mind, "that in your place I should act as you have acted."

Although the city of Holguin lies only about twenty miles from the place where Ridge landed on the coast, the way to it was so obstructed, first by swamps and dense forests, and later by wooded hills and swollen streams, that evening shadows were closing in when Ridge and his ragged escort came within sight of its low roofs. On the still air were borne to their ears at the same moment the clear notes of Spanish bugles sounding the "Retreat."

Ridge had speculated much that day concerning his reception by the Spaniards, and as to how he should enter their lines. Now del Concha proposed a plan that seemed feasible.

"Ride in at full speed," he said, "while I with my men will follow as though in hot pursuit close up to the lines. Of course we will exchange shots, though both must carefully fire too high to do any damage. Is it well? Then adios, my friend, until we meet again."

A few minutes later the newly posted Spanish guard was startled by the sound of shots, and then by the sight of a fugitive horseman speeding towards them, followed closely by a party of mounted insurgents who were firing at him. Drums were beat and trumpets sounded. A small body of troops hastily advanced from the city, opening their ranks to receive the panting horse and its apparently exhausted rider, but closing them to give an ineffective volley against his pursuers, who were now flying in consternation.

Half an hour afterwards, Ridge, addressed as Señor Remelios, stood in the presence of General Pando, the Spanish commander of the eastern diocese of the island, and second only to the Captain-General, who was carefully reading a despatch just handed him by the young trooper.

"You say, señor, that you have just come from Gibara, where you were secretly landed last night?"

"Yes, General."

"Also from this note, signed by Lieutenant Carranza, I learn that the Americans are about to land in force at Cienfuegos."

"Such are Señor Carranza's latest advices."

"Um! They conflict, however, with news just brought from the south that a landing has already been effected at Guantanamo."

Here the old soldier peered keenly at our hero, who experienced a thrill of uneasiness.

At this moment there came a challenge from the sentry stationed at the door. It was satisfactorily answered, and another individual hurriedly entered the room.

"Your Excellency," said this person, making a profound salute, "pardon my intrusion; but I am come to denounce the man now standing before you as a Yankee spy. His despatch is a forgery and utterly false, since the American army is not to land at Cienfuegos, but at Santiago."

Just here Ridge obtained his first view of the speaker's face, and was overwhelmed with dismay to recognize in it the features of the man who had ridden with him all that day under the guise of a Cuban patriot. It was that of Enrico del Concha.