Chapter Fifty One.
A Grumbling Guard.
Part of the dialogue between Santander and the hunchback was overheard by José—enough of it to give him the trembles. Among its revelations was nought relating to himself, or his connivance at the escape of the prisoners. For all, he could see that he was now in as much danger as they who were in hiding. The Colonel of Hussars had gone on to the city, perhaps to complete some duty already engaging him, but as likely to obtain a stronger force. And as his words told, he would return again; and no doubt make direct for the old monastery, the dwarf guiding him.
The first thought of the faithful cochero was not about himself, nor his horses. These might stay in the meadow all night, as they were now likely to do. The lives of men were at stake—his own among the number—and his sole purpose now was to get home, report what he had heard to his young mistress and the Condesa; then hasten up the mountain to warn the imperilled ones. As good luck would have it, he knew the place they were in. Son of a carbonero, when a boy he had helped his father in the charcoal-burning business; was familiar with the mountain forests, and their paths, and had more than once been at the abandoned monastery. He could easily find the way to it. But the difficulty was to get back to his master’s house—even stir from the spot on which he stood. Soon as receiving their orders the two Hussars had dismounted, and tied up their horses, one on each side of the rocky embayment; they themselves, with their curious charge, occupying the space between. It was not possible to pass without being seen by them, and as surely seized.
So long as he kept his place he might feel comparatively safe. The cove was of a three-cornered shape, with luckily a deep dark cleft at its inner angle, into which he had already squeezed himself. While the moon remained low, and the cliff made shadow, there was little likelihood of their seeing him, unless they came close up. Still, the situation was aught but pleasant, and ere long became irksome in the extreme; the conversation to which he was compelled to listen making it so.
The two Husares did not seem, to be in the best of temper; the corporal more especially showing signs of dissatisfaction. Groping about for a stone to seat himself on, he grumbled out—
“Maddita! What a bore, having to stay here till they get back. Heaven knows when that will be. Like enough not before morning. I thought we were going to pass the night in San Augustin, and had hopes of a chat with that muchachita at the house where the colonel visits.”
“Pepita, you mean—lady’s maid to the Doña Luisa Valverde?”
“Of course I mean her, the pretty dear; and have reason to think she is a bit sweet upon me.”
Josh’s heart was on fire—his blood boiling. It was with difficulty he restrained himself from springing out upon the soldier and clutching him by the throat. He succeeded, however, in keeping his place, if not his temper; for it would have been sheer madness to show himself there and then. What came after quite tranquillised him.
“Well, cabo” returned he of the rank and file, seemingly without fear of speaking plain to the non-commissioned officer, “I should be sorry to dash your hopes; but as a friend I can’t help saying I don’t think you have much chance in that quarter. She’s a step higher, that same Pepita; holds her head far above any of us common soldiers—”
“Common soldiers! I’m a corporal; you forget that, hombre. But why do you think my chances are so poor?”
“Because I’ve heard say there’s a man about the establishment to whom she’s already given what heart she may have had to give—that they’re engaged. The fellow’s groom or cochero, or something of the sort.”
José breathed easier now, noways provoked at having been spoken of as a “fellow.”
“Bah!” contemptuously exclaimed the corporal. “What care I for that horse-cleaner and carriage-washer for a rival! I’ve cut out scores of such before now, and will do the same with him. Lie down there, you devil’s imp!” he added, turning savagely upon the dwarf, and venting his spleen by giving the creature a kick. “Down, or I’ll break every bone in your body.”
“Mercy, master!” expostulated the hunchback. “Don’t be so cruel to a fellow-creature.”
“Fellow-creature! That’s good, ha, ha, ha!” And the brute broke out into a hoarse laugh, till the rocks echoed his fiendish cachinnation.
“Well, your worship,” rejoined he thus inhumanly mocked, with an air of assumed meekness; “whatever I am, it pains me to think I should be the cause of keeping you here. But why should you stay, may I ask? You don’t suppose I’m going to run away? If I were with you as a prisoner—but I am not. I sought an interview with your Colonel of my own free will. Surely you saw that!”
“True enough, he did,” interposed the soldier.
“And what if he did?” growled the corporal.
“Only, Señor, to show that I have no intention to part company with you, nor wish neither. Por Dios! don’t let me hinder you from having that chat with the muchachita. It’s but a step back to the pueblo, and like as not she’ll be on the lookout for you, spite of what your comrade says. Maybe he has an eye to the pretty dear himself, and that’s why he wishes to discourage you.”
As this rigmarole was delivered in the most comical manner, it put the soldiers in a better humour, both breaking out into laughter.
Of course the corporal had no thought of availing himself of the permission so accorded. Their orders were strict to stay in that spot, and stay they must. The question was, how were they to spend the time. A smoke to begin with; and they drew out their cigarritos, with flint, steel, and tinder.
Soon as the red coal appeared beneath their noses, said the cabo to his comrade—
“By the way, Perico, have you your cards with you?”
“Did you ever know me to be without them?”
“How lucky! I quite forgot mine.”
“That’s because your mind was bent upon Pepita. I saw you giving your moustache an extra twist this evening.”
“Oh! bother Pepita. Let’s have an albur of monté.”
“How about light?”
“The moon’s clear enough, if it wasn’t we could manage with our cigars. Many’s the game I’ve played that way.”
“All right! But the stakes? I haven’t a cuartilla—nay, not so much as a claco.”
“Carramba! Nor I either. I spent the last on a drink just before we got into the saddle. It’s bad; but we can bet upon the credit system, and use cartridges for counters.”
“Ah, stay!”
At which he turned his eyes upon the dwarf with a look of peculiar significance, cupidity the prevailing expression.
The latter saw it with a heaviness of heart, and a shuddering throughout his frame. All the time apprehensive about the plunder with which his pockets were crammed, he instinctively anticipated what was coming.