From Miramar, Roddy returned directly to his house. On the way he found the city in a ferment; all shops had closed, the plazas and cafés were crowded, and the Alameda was lined with soldiers. Wherever a few men gathered together the police ordered them to separate; and in the driveways, troopers of Alvarez, alert and watchful, each with his carbine on his hip, rode slowly at a walk, glancing from left to right. At his house, Roddy found gathered there all of the White Mice: Peter, McKildrick, Vicenti and Pedro. They had assembled, he supposed, to learn the result of his visit to Miramar, but they were concerned with news more important. Vicenti had called them together to tell them that, at any moment, the Rojas faction might rise and attempt to seize the city and San Carlos. The escape of Vega, and the fact, which was now made public, that he had proclaimed himself in revolt, had given the Rojas faction the opportunity for which it had been waiting. The city was denuded of Government troops. For hours they had been pouring out of it in pursuit of Vega and his little band of revolutionists; and until reënforcements should arrive from Caracas, which might not be in twenty-four hours, the city was defenseless. The moment for the Rojas party had come.
But Vicenti feared that the assault on San Carlos would result, not only in the death of many of those who attacked it, but also would be the signal on the inside for the instant assassination of Rojas. It therefore was imperative, before the attack was made, to get Rojas out of prison. He dared not inform even the leaders of the Rojas party of the proposed rescue. It must be attempted only by those who could be absolutely trusted, those already in the secret. And it was for that purpose he had called the White Mice together. When Roddy arrived they had, subject to his approval, arranged their plan. From what Vicenti had learned, the assault on the fortress would be made at midnight. It was accordingly agreed that at nine o’clock, when it would be quite dark, they would blow open the wall. Roddy, McKildrick and Peter would dine together at Roddy’s house, and at eight, in the launch, would leave his wharf. Pedro, whose presence would assure General Rojas of the good intentions of the others, was directed to so arrange his departure from Miramar as to arrive by the shore route at the wharf in time to accompany them. And Vicenti, who had set his watch with McKildrick’s, was at once to inform General Rojas of what was expected to happen, and at nine o’clock, when the wall fell, to rush with him through the breach.
In the patio the men, standing and in silence, drank to the success of their undertaking, and then, after each had shaken hands with the others, separated. By Roddy’s orders Pedro was to inform Inez of their plan and to tell her that, if the Rojas party, in its attack upon the city, was successful, her father might that night sleep at Miramar. If, after his release, the issue were still in doubt, the launch would carry him to Curaçao.
Vicenti left for San Carlos. In case it should be necessary to make the dash to Willemstad, Peter remained at the house to collect for the voyage provisions, medicine, stimulants, casks of water, and McKildrick and Roddy departed in the launch to lay the mine which was to destroy the barrier. On their way they stopped at the light-house, where McKildrick collected what he wanted for that purpose. It was now four o’clock in the afternoon, and by five they had entered the tunnel and reached the wall. McKildrick dug a hole in the cement a few feet above the base, and in this shoved a stick of dynamite of sixty per cent. nitro, and attached a number six cap and a fuse a foot long. This would burn for one minute and allow whoever lighted it that length of time to get under cover. In case of a miss-fire, he had brought with him extra sticks, fuses and caps. These, with drills and a sledge-hammer, they hid in a corner of the wall.
In the damp darkness of the tunnel it was difficult to believe that outside the sun was still shining.
“If it were only night!” said Roddy. “I hate to leave it. I’d only have to touch a match to that, and he’d be free.”
“Free of the cell,” assented McKildrick, “but we could never get him away. The noise will bring the whole garrison. It will be like heaving a brick into a hornets’ nest. We must wait for darkness. This is no matinée performance.”
On the return trip to the city they sat in silence, the mind of each occupied by his own thoughts. How serious these thoughts were neither cared to confess in words, but as they passed under the guns of the fortress they glanced at each other and smiled.
“You mustn’t think, Mac,” said Roddy gratefully, “I don’t appreciate what you’re doing. You stand to lose a lot!”
“I can always get another job,” returned McKildrick.