This apparently simple question had the most extraordinary effect upon Don Hermoso and Carlos. The former, suddenly dropping his face in his hands, began to sob and moan hysterically, while Carlos as suddenly dropped on his knees on the deck, and, lifting his clenched hands skyward, began to call down bitter curses upon the head of Alvaros.
Jack shuddered as he listened, and again ground his teeth in impotent fury, for he soon gathered, from his friend’s wild words, that the cruelty of which the Spaniard had boasted had indeed been true. But he could gather no information as to the whereabouts of Señorita Isolda from the now frenzied ravings of her brother; and it was only with the utmost difficulty that he at length drew from Don Hermoso the dreadful tidings that his daughter, who had been brought on board the ship a raving maniac, had that very morning contrived to elude the guard, and, rushing on deck, had thrown herself overboard and never been seen again!
Poor Jack was so utterly overwhelmed at this awful confirmation of his worst forebodings that several minutes elapsed ere he could speak, and even then he could find no words wherewith to soothe the despair of his friends: but presently he managed to tell them again that he was there to restore them to liberty, and that there were plenty of friends who would stand by them upon their return to their home; then he asked them whether they knew of any more prisoners on board who, like themselves, were the victims of Spanish injustice and tyranny, suggesting that, if so, those poor wretches should also be restored to freedom; whereupon Don Hermoso mentioned that he believed there were two or three more political prisoners on board, and, at Jack’s request, accompanied him forward and pointed them out. These also Jack ordered aft, and when they came abreast of the gangway he directed them down into the boat, whither Don Hermoso and his bereaved family followed them, Jack going last, and informing the skipper of the Marañon ere he left that he might now proceed on his voyage, which that individual forthwith did; while, as soon as the released prisoners were on board the yacht, and the boat hoisted to the davits, that craft continued her course to the westward—until the convict steamer was out of sight, when the bows of the Thetis were again turned eastward and her speed reduced to dead slow, for she now had to be stripped of her disguise and restored to her normal appearance again, and some convenient spot for the performance of this operation had to be found, Milsom not deeming it wise to return and effect it in the spot from which they had so recently come. This spot was eventually found, in the shape of a tiny cove near Point Lucrecia; and into it they steamed at daylight next morning, leaving it again the same evening, an hour before sunset, when the Thetis again showed as the trim, white-hulled English yacht, with all her boats bright varnished as of yore, neither yacht nor boats bearing the slightest trace of ever having been even remotely connected with the mysterious “gunboat” that had been seen by the fishermen to steam out of Sagua la Grande harbour.
When at length, by the exercise of illimitable patience, Jack succeeded in persuading his friends to believe that their troubles were over, and had induced them to settle down in peace and comfort aboard the yacht, and also to ease their aching hearts by telling him what they had undergone since that day when they so blithely parted from him at the railway station at Havana, it was a really heartrending story of cruel oppression and shameful, irresponsible tyranny to which he felt himself obliged to listen. There is no need to give the full details here; it is sufficient to simply state that upon their arrival at Bejucal, the first station beyond Santiago, they were accosted by a sergeant, who ordered them to leave the train, and who, with the assistance of a couple of files of soldiers, conveyed them back to Havana by goods train late that same night, marching them all off to La Jacoba prison about three o’clock the next morning, where each of them was confined in a separate cell. Later in the day—that is to say, about eleven o’clock in the morning—Don Hermoso was visited by a file of soldiers, who informed him that the governor demanded his presence, and roughly commanded him to follow them. Having obeyed this command, the Don presently found himself in a kind of office, and confronted with Alvaros, who ordered the two guards to leave him alone with their prisoner. Then, this having been done, Alvaros informed Don Hermoso that, in consequence of certain information supplied to the Government, his house had been searched during his absence, and sufficient treasonable correspondence found therein to send the entire family to the penal settlements for life. Next he reminded Don Hermoso that he had on a certain occasion paid him and his family the compliment of proposing for the hand of Doña Isolda, and that the Don had seen fit to reject the proposal with scorn and contumely; yet such, he said, was his generous and forgiving nature that he was quite willing not only to overlook that affront, but also to secure the pardon of Don Hermoso and his family for their treason to the Spanish Government, if the said Don Hermoso would now withdraw his refusal and give his consent to his daughter’s marriage with him, Don Sebastian Alvaros, a scion of one of the most noble families in Old Spain. Don Hermoso’s reply to this suggestion was the repetition of a categorical and uncompromising refusal; whereupon Alvaros fell into a paroxysm of rage and swore that he would either compel Don Hermoso to give his consent, or certain very dreadful things would happen to every member of the family, Doña Isolda included. And certain very dreadful things had happened, among which floggings and starvation might be mentioned, the whole culminating in their condemnation to transportation for life to the horrors of the penal settlement of Fernando Po, when Don Hermoso persisted in his refusal and declared that he would rather see his daughter dead than wedded to such a scoundrel as Don Sebastian Alvaros. These were the bare outlines of the story, as told by Don Hermoso, but there were details of words said and deeds done that caused Jack Singleton to “see red”, and to wonder how it was that a man, made in God’s image, could ever become degraded to a condition so much lower than that of the beasts that perish; and how it was that such fiends in human form were permitted to live and to work their wicked will upon others. “However,” he comforted himself by saying, “such atrocities as Señor Alvaros has committed do not go unpunished, and the time will come when he will wish that he had shot himself rather than yield to the suggestions of his own evil heart!” How truly he prophesied, and how awful was the retribution that was to fall upon Don Sebastian Alvaros, Jack little knew, otherwise it is possible that even his righteous anger might have been mitigated, his craving for vengeance drowned in the fountain of pity!
Chapter Fifteen.
Retribution.
It was a trifle over thirty-six hours from the moment of the deliverance of Don Hermoso and his wife and son when the Thetis, brilliant in all the bravery of white enamel paint, gilt figurehead and ornamental scroll-work, freshly varnished boats, and scintillating brasswork, steamed into Guantanamo harbour and let go her anchor off the little town—or village, for it is scarcely more—of Caimamera. The visit of the yacht to this out-of-the-way spot was ostensibly for the purpose of enabling that erratic and irresponsible young Englishman, her owner, to enjoy a day or two’s fishing, Guantanamo harbour being noted for the variety of fish with which its waters teem, and the excellent sport which they afford; but Jack’s first act was to go ashore and pay an early visit to the telegraph office, from which he dispatched a cipher wire to Don Ramon Bergera, briefly acquainting that gentleman with the bare facts of the rescue and Doña Isolda’s death. Then he allowed the crew to take a couple of boats and go fishing, while he devoted himself to the arduous task of comforting and consoling his friends as best he could; indeed, that had been his chief occupation from the moment when the Montijos had first come on board the yacht from the convict ship. Nor were his efforts altogether unavailing, although it was exceedingly difficult to find words of comfort for those whose hearts were still bleeding from the tragic loss of the being who was dearest to them all. With the Señora Montijo Jack was much more successful than with her husband and son, for the poor soul’s reason was entirely gone, and to such an extent, indeed, that she seemed to have completely forgotten every circumstance connected with their recent misfortunes, appearing to merely remember Jack as someone with whom certain pleasant memories, vaguely recalled, were connected, and in whose society she therefore took pleasure. She very rarely spoke, never rationally, but was content to walk fore and aft the deck by the hour, with her hand on Jack’s supporting arm and her eyes gazing dreamily at the deck planks. She took even more pleasure in Jack’s society than she did in that of her husband and son, both of whom were at this time gloomy, saturnine, silent brooders upon revenge.
On the second day after their arrival in Guantanamo harbour there came a letter from Don Ramon, briefly congratulating Jack upon his success and the Montijos upon their deliverance, and requesting them to remain where they were for the present, as he had been unable to gather any definite news, but was busily conducting a number of enquiries. Then, after the lapse of a full week, there came another letter from the same source, informing them that the writer had received a communication from Señor Calderon, Don Hermoso’s manager, stating that Señor Alvaros—now promoted to the rank of major—had appeared at the hacienda with the intelligence that Don Hermoso and his family, having been found guilty of the crime of conspiracy against the Spanish Government, had been shipped off to Fernando Po for life; and the estates, having been sequestrated, had been given to him as a reward for meritorious service: furthermore, that, Señor Calderon having had long experience in the management of the estate, Major Alvaros was disposed to allow him to retain the post of manager, at least for the present, upon condition that he was found to serve his new master faithfully: and that, finally, Señor Calderon was henceforward to account to Major Alvaros for all income and expenditure connected with the estate. Don Ramon then went on to state that, upon receipt of this communication, he had taken it upon himself to pay a flying visit to Señor Calderon, upon which occasion he, Don Ramon, had informed the Señor of the escape of Don Hermoso from the convict ship, and had instructed him to hold the property, at all hazards, until Don Hermoso’s return. And the letter wound up by strongly urging Don Hermoso to return to his property forthwith and hold it against all comers, arming his peons and dependents, if necessary; although the writer was of opinion that the Government generally, and Alvaros in particular, would soon be much too busy to find time to dispute Don Hermoso’s right to the possession of his property.