"What can your handful of men do against Canterac's army?" I asked Sorillo as we rode away.
"Not much beyond cutting off a few stragglers," he replied, smiling; "but we shall obtain information of which our leaders in Lima seem to stand badly in need."
CHAPTER XXII.
THE "SILVER KEY" AGAIN.
Since these events happened I have asked myself many times whether I did right or wrong, and even now I scarcely know how to decide. Those who blamed me said I was Sorillo's guest, and should not have abused his confidence. Others urged that I was bound, if possible, to prevent him putting a man to death unlawfully. All, however, agreed that none but a madman would have embarked on so preposterous an enterprise.
The idea occurred to me suddenly. The guerillas, split up into groups, had gone, some this way, some that, to watch the movements of the Royalist troops. Sorillo had kept me company till we cleared the pass, when he, too, with a word of farewell, rode away. It was now dusk, and, as the chief had truly said, there was no time to waste; yet I did not move. Right in my path, with outstretched arms and pitiful, beseeching face, stood Rosa Montilla. I knew it was but the outcome of a fevered brain; yet the vision seemed intensely real.
The girl's eyes looked at me reproachfully, her lips moved as if in speech. I fancied I could hear again her parting cry, "O Juan, save him!"
I asked myself impatiently what more could be done. I had tried my best and failed, and there was an end of it. Besides, the words of the chief rang in my ears in ominous warning: Don Felipe could not be trusted! To set him free was like giving liberty to a venomous snake; his hatred would now be all the more bitter in that he had struck and failed.
Why should I add to my father's danger? The fellow had tried to slay him once; the next time he would make no mistake. I would make no further effort to help such a traitor; I would ride on. But again the beseeching face of the girl stopped me, and again I was moved to think how I could aid the miserable prisoner. Like a flash of lightning I thought of the silver key. That would unlock his prison door. Although I fully believed in Don Felipe's guilt, I remembered he made no effort to defend himself. He would not admit Sorillo's right to try him. Before a lawful judge he might be able to vindicate his actions in some way; at least he should have the chance to do so. Thus thinking, I turned back in the direction of the ravine.