Loe raamatut: «Across the Salt Seas», lehekülg 9

CHAPTER XV.
"DRAW SWORDS!"

Another night had come-'twas already dark-and Juan and I sat on our horses in the cork wood, at the end of which we could hear the Minho swirling along beneath the ramshackle bridge that divided Portugal from Spain. And, as good fortune would have it, there was on this, the Portuguese side, no guarda frontéra whatever. Perhaps that poor, impoverished land thought there was naught to guard from ingress, also that nothing would be brought from Spain to them. The traffic set all the other way!

Because there was no need for us to be too soon where we were now; indeed, because 'twas not well that we should be here ere nightfall, the landlord had not awakened me until nine in the morning. And then, on his doing so, I perceived that the other sheepskin-clad bed by my side had not been occupied at all. Wherefore I started up in some considerable fright, calling out to him through the door to know where was my friend, the young señor, whom I had left warming himself at the great fire below over night, and saying that he would follow me to bed ere long.

"Oh! he is below," he replied. "Has passed the night in front of the fire wrapped in his cloak, saying that 'twas there alone he could keep himself from death by the cold. He bids me tell you all is well for your journey, the horses fresh; also there is a good meal awaiting you"; whereon I performed my ablutions, hurried on my garments and rapidly made my way to the public room below.

"Juan," I said, "you should have warned me of your intention of remaining below. This is not good campaigning, nor comradeship. Had I awakened in the night and found you missing, I should have descended to seek for you, fearing that danger had come to you, and 'tis not well for travellers to be aroused unnecessarily from their beds on winter nights. Also we should keep always together. Soldiers-and you have to be one now! – on dangerous service should not separate."

"Forgive," he said, as, it seemed, he was always saying to me, and uttering the words in his accustomed soft, pleading voice. "Forgive. But-oh! Mervan!" pausing a moment as though seeking for some excuse for having deserted me for the night-"oh! Mervan! that bed was so-so filthy and untempting. And the room so cold, when without fire. And it was so warm here. I could not force myself to leave this room."

Remembering what he had said about those who came from the tropics dreading cold and discomfort even more than death, I thought I understood how he should have preferred sleeping here to doing so above. Therefore, I merely said:

"There might be worse beds than that you would not use-may be worse for us ere long. Still, no matter. You slept warm here as I did upstairs. Yet 'tis well I did not waken. Now let us see for breakfast and our departure," and giving a glance at the landlord, who was bringing in a sort of thick soup in which I saw many dried raisins floating, also some eggs and coarse black bread, as well as some chocolate which smelt mighty good and diffused a pleasing aroma through the room, I tapped my waistcoat pocket to remind him of the other doubloons that were in it. And he nodded understandingly.

The journey to where we now stood this evening was as uneventful as though we had been traveling in safety in our own England. The road into which the man had put us in the morning led first of all through countless villages-I have since heard that in all Europe there is no land so thickly sown with villages as this poor one of Portugal-then trailed off into a dense chestnut-fringed track that was no longer a road at all.

And now we knew that we were close unto the spot where our first adventure on the journey, that we hoped might at last bring us to Flanders, must of necessity take place. We were but half an hour's ride from the crazy bridge the man had spoken of as connecting his country with Spain-the bridge on the other side of which was the rocky path, with, at the top of it, the hut in which we should find two Spanish guardas frontéras armed to the teeth and prepared to bar the way to all who could not show their right to pass.

Yet we were resolved to pass-or leave our bodies there.

"There is," the landlord had said, "a holy stone at the spot where the path leading to the bridge enters the cork wood. You cannot mistake it. Upon that stone is graven the Figure, beneath it an arrow pointing the way to Melagasso. Your path lies to the left and thus to the bridge. God keep you."

We left that stone as he had directed, with one swift glance upward at those blessed features-I noticing Juan crossed himself devoutly-slowly over fallen leaves that lay sodden on the earth beneath their mantle of snow, and over dried branches blown to the earth, our horses trod. And so for a quarter of an hour we pursued our way, while still the night came on swifter and swifter until, at last, we could scarce see each other's forms beneath the thick foliage above our heads.

Yet we heard now that swirling, rushing river-heard its murmur as it swept past its banks, and its deep swish as it rolled over what was doubtless some great boulder stone out in the stream-heard, too, its hum as it glided by the supports of the bridge that we knew was before us. Also, we saw above our heads a light gleaming-a light that we knew must come from the frontiermen's house.

And we had to steal up to where that light twinkled brightly, in what was now the clear, frosty air, since the snow had ceased-indeed, had not fallen all day-and all was clear overhead; to steal up, and then, if might be, make our hasty rush past on our horses' backs, or stay to cross steel and exchange ball with those who barred our way.

"Forward to the bridge!" I whispered to Juan, fearing that even from where we were my voice might be borne on the clear night air up to that height. "Loosen, also, your blade in its sheath! And your pistols, too-are they well primed?"

"Yes," he whispered back, his voice soft and low as a woman's when she murmurs acknowledgment of her love. "Yes."

"You do not fear?"

"I fear nothing-we are together," and, as he spoke, I felt the long, slim, gloved hand touch mine.

A moment later we had left the shadow of the wood; we stood above the sloping bank of the river rushing by; another moment and our horses' feet would be upon the wooden bridge-its creaking quite apparent to our ears as the stream swept under it.

"'Tis God's mercy," I whispered again to him, "that the river is so brawling; otherwise the horses' hoofs upon these boards would be heard as plain as a musket's roar. Ha! I had forgotten!"

"Forgotten what, Mervan?" the gentle voice of Juan whispered back. "Forgotten what?"

"If they should neigh! If there should be any of their kind up there!" and as I spoke, as the thought came to me, I felt as though I myself feared.

"Pray God they do not; yet, if they do, it must be borne." And now I noticed his voice was as firm as though he had experienced a hundred such risks as this we were running. Then he added: "The Indians muffle theirs with their serapes when they draw near a foe. Shall we do that?"

"No," I answered, "'tis too late. Let's on. Yet, remember, at the slowest pace. Thus their hoofs will fall lighter." And again I exclaimed: "Thank God, the river drowns their clatter!"

Yet, a moment later, and I had cause for further rejoicing. From above where that light twinkled there came a sound of singing-a rich, full voice a-trolling of a song, with another voice joining in.

Or was there more than one voice joining in? If so, we might have more than the old man and the young one, of whom the landlord had spoken, to encounter. Almost directly Juan confirmed my dread.

"There are half a dozen there," he said, very calmly. "I know enough of music to recognise that. What to do now?"

"To go on," I answered. "See, we are across the bridge-there is the road-in another moment we shall be ascending the path. Praise heaven, we can ride abreast."

And in that other moment we were riding abreast slowly up that path, the snow that lay on it deadening now the sound of the horses' hoofs, while the voices within helped also to silence them.

"I know the song," Juan whispered-and I marvelled at his calmness-his! the youth's who had been so nervous when there was naught to fear, yet who now, when danger was close upon him, seemed to fear nothing-"have sung it myself. 'Tis 'The Cid's Wedding.'"

"'Twill not be songs about weddings that they will be engaged on," I said, "if any come out of that hut during the next ten minutes; but rather screeches of death-from us or them. Have your sword ready, Juan, also your pistols."

"They are ready," he said. "Yet what to do? Suppose any come forth ere we are past the door, over the frontier. Am I to ride straight through them-are we to do so?"

"Ay. Sit well down in your saddle, give your nag his head, and-if any man impedes your way, stand up in your stirrups, cut down straight at him, or, if yours is not a cutting sword, thrust straight at the breast of-Ha!"

My exclamation-still under my breath, since my caution did not desert me-was caused by what now met our eyes, namely, the opening of some door giving on to the road in front of where the frontier cabin stood; the gleaming forth into that road of a stream of light, and then the coming out from the hut and the mingling of some four or five figures of men in the glare.

Now, when this happened, we had progressed up the hillside road two-thirds of the way, so that we were not more than seventy paces, if as much, from where those people were; yet, as I calculated, even at this nearness to them, we might still, if all went well, escape discovery. For we were under the shelter of the shelving rock which reared itself to our left hands, and not out in the middle of the road, which was here somewhat broad; and, therefore, to the darkness of the night was added the still deeper darkness of the rock's obscurity. And, I reflected, 'twas scarce likely any would be coming our way from this party, which was evidently breaking up, since the Portuguese and Spaniards did not, I thought, fraternise very much. 'Twas not very probable any would be returning our way. Consequently, I deemed that we were safe, or almost so; that, soon, some of those in the road would take themselves off, and would leave behind in the hut none but the old man and the young man of whom the landlord had spoken. Nay, more, a glance down the road in the direction of where we were would, in the darkness of the night, reveal nothing of our whereabouts. And I conveyed as much to Juan by a pressure of my hand, yet leaning forward, too, over to his side and whispering:

"All the same, be ready. It may come to a rush. If one of our horses neighs or shakes itself-so much as paws the earth-if a bridle jangles-we are discovered."

And a glance from those bright eyes-I protest, I saw them glisten in the darkness of the starlit night! – told me that he had heard and understood. Told me, also, that he was ready. After that-after those whispered words of mine, that responsive glance of his-we sat as still as statues on our steeds, hardly allowing our breath to issue from our lungs-watching-watching those figures.

God! would they never separate? Would not some depart and the others retire into the cabin and shut the door against the cold wintry night? Offer us the opportunity to make one turn of the wrist on our reins, give one pressure of our knees to the animals' flanks and dash up the remains of the ascent and past the hut ere those within could rush out and send a bullet after us from fusil, gun or musketoon?

At last they gave signs of parting-we heard the buenas noches and the adiós issuing from those Spanish throats; we saw two of the men-their forms blurred and magnified in the outstreaming rays of the lamp-clasp each other's hands; we knew that they were saying farewell to one another. And then-curse the buffoon! – and then, when they had even parted and two had turned toward the door to re-enter, and the others had taken their first steps upon the road forward-then, I say, one of these latter turned back, made signs to all the others, and, when he had fixed their attention, began to dance and caper about in the road, imitating for the benefit of his friends, as I supposed, some dance or dancer he had lately seen.

From the lips of my doubtless high-strung companion there came a long-drawn breath; almost I could have sworn I heard the soft murmur of a smothered Spanish oath; and then once more those whom we watched parted from each other-the buffoonery was over, the imitation, if it was such, finished. Again, with laughs and jokes, they broke up and separated.

"Our chance is at hand, at last!" I whispered.

Was it?

The others-those going away-had disappeared round a bend of both rock and road; the two left behind were retiring into their house when, suddenly, the last one stopped, paused a moment, put up his hand to his head as though endeavouring to recall something, then put out his other hand, seemed to grasp a lantern from inside the door, and, slowly, began a moment later to descend the road where we sat our steeds.

And now we were discovered beyond all doubt; in a moment or so he would perceive us; another, and he would challenge us; would shout back to his comrade in the hut-perhaps call loud enough to attract the attention of his departing friends. We should be shot down, our horses probably hamstrung, we brought to earth, prisoners or dead.

"Swords out!" I said to Juan, "and advance. Quick, put your horse to the canter at once; ride past him-over him if need be."

A moment later and we had flashed by the astonished man, the jennet that bore Juan springing up the hill like a cat, my own bony but muscular steed alongside; behind us we heard his roars; an instant after the ping of a bullet whistled by my ears, fired at us by the other one in the hut as we advanced; another moment and he was out in the road, endeavouring to swing a wooden gate, that hung on hinges attached to the cabin, across the road. Also, which was worst of all, we heard answering calls from the men who had gone on ahead-tramplings and shouts-we knew that they were coming back to help.

But we were at the gate now, and still it was not shut, there wanted yet another yard or so ere its catch would meet the socket post, and, shifting my reins into my sword hand, I seized its top bar, endeavouring to bear it back by the combined weight of my horse and myself upon the man striving to shut it.

Then I heard the fellow at the gate call out something of which I understood no word, heard Juan give a reply with-who would have believed it of him at this moment-a mocking laugh; heard the word, Inglese; knew intuitively that he had told them who and what we were, and had defied them.

And also, as I divined all this, I saw that the other men had returned, had reached the gate and were lending their assistance to aid in its being barred against us.

It was war time, as I had said before; I took heart of grace in remembering this, and I set to work to hew my way, even though I killed all who opposed me, toward the distant goal I sought. One brawny Spaniard who, even as he lent his whole weight to the gate, drew forth a huge pistol, I cut down over those bars, he falling all a-heap in the road; another I ran through the shoulder; and I saw the steel of Juan's lighter sword gleam like a streak of lightning betwixt the upper and the second bar; I heard the third man who had come back give a yell of pain as it reached him, while a pistol he had just fired fell to the ground-he falling a moment later on top of it.

And now there was but the original man left at the gate, and still it was not shut! Wherefore I brought the whole strength and power of my body to force it back so that there should be room for us to pass.

Yet, even as I did so, I had to desist, for from behind, I heard Juan shout:

"Mervan, Mervan, help me!" and on looking round I saw that the jennet was riderless. Saw also, that he was down, that the man who had begun to descend the hill was wrestling with him on the ground, and that, as they struggled together, both were rolling over toward the lower part of the precipice or rock side, which hung perpendicularly above the swift flowing river.

CHAPTER XVI.
THE FIRST FIGHT

In a moment I, too, was off my horse-had tied it and the jennet's reins together-and had flung myself on the man-a big, brawny fellow who had one arm around Juan's body while, with his disengaged hand, he felt for a knife in his girdle.

Even as I did so I saw that they were both perilously near the edge of the rock which hung over the river, that in a few more moments both must have gone over it-over and down, crashing through bushes and shrubs until they fell into that rapid stream below, or were hurled on to the timbers of the crazy bridge, with, probably, their bones broken all to pieces.

Yet, small as was the space left in which a third man might intervene, be sure I lost no time in doing so, in flinging myself upon that muscular Spaniard and in tearing him off his prey. Seizing him by the collar of his jacket, one hand around his throat, I dragged him from the boy-for I was as muscular as he, and, maybe, younger, too-wrenched him to his feet and sent him reeling back into the road.

"Catch the horses," I said to Juan, "quick. And mount yourself. Be ready. Once I have disposed of this fellow there remains none but the one at the gate."

And, although the lad tottered as he rose to his feet, he did as I bade him, and, securing the animals, which had but backed a few paces down the road, got into his saddle again. Then he said-though faintly: "I will go forward and dispose of the remaining man."

Yet there was still this one to be disposed of-and I understood at a glance that I had no easy task before me ere I could do so.

He was a fellow of great bulk-this I could observe in the light of a watery half moon that now peeped up over the bend of the rock by where the cabin stood; also he was well armed. In his hand he held now a long cavalry sword, which he had drawn from its steel scabbard with a clash even as he staggered back against the rock; with his other hand he fumbled at the silken sash around his waist, in which was the knife he had endeavoured to draw against Juan.

In God's mercy, he had no pistol!

He muttered some hoarse words-to me they conveyed little-yet no words were needed. I knew as well as though he had spoken my own tongue that one of three things must happen now: That great inch-deep blade either buried in my heart or my head cleft open with it, or my straight English weapon through and through him!

Then we set to it.

As animals which are bereft of speech fight, so we fought now-only more warily. For they fly at each other's throats, in a moment are locked in each other's grasp, their fangs deep in the other's flesh. It was not so with us. We had not to come too close, but rather to guard and feint, to avoid each other till the moment, the one critical and supreme moment, came. Thus we began.

At first, perhaps, because of the deadly weight of his blade-better for cut than thrust-he aimed twice at my head, and tried again a third time, then jumped back with another of his-to me-unintelligible hoarse and raucous exclamations; for, at that attempt, I had quickly-ay! and easily, too-parried the blow, had disengaged my weapon, and, with a rapid thrust, had nearly struck home-had missed the inside of his ribs by an inch only. Then knew that the next time I should not fail.

"Curse you," I muttered, "if I could speak your patois, I'd tell you that you are doomed." While to myself I said: "He is a clumsy fool, and-he is mine."

We had turned in these passadoes, as I drove him back; so, too, I had edged him round. Now, 'twas I who had the rock behind me, 'twas he who had the declivity of the lower precipice behind him.

And he knew it as well as I-saw in a moment all that this meant, and-endeavoured to turn again.

Yet he never had the chance. Trust me for that! – as my recollection of the daily lessons in the fence school at Hounslow, which for a year Dutch William's best ferrailleurs had taught me ere my father got my guidon for me.

He never had the chance! Yet he strove hard for it, too; proved that Spain made no bad choice when she sent him to this frontier post; strove hard to beat me round again, to bring my back in the position his was-to the lip of the plateau-and failed.

If I could have spoken to him in his patois-for 'twas scarce Spanish-if I could have made him understand, if he would have discontinued his contest with me, I would have spared him, and willingly; would have bidden him let me go in peace, and be saved himself. For he was a brave man; too good a one for the doom that must now be his. Yet he forced me to it, forced me to go on, ceased not for one instant his swinging blows and thrusts, forced me to parry and thrust in turn for my own salvation-to drive him back step by step to the brink of the precipice behind him. And, now, it was not five paces behind him.

His was the danger-I wondered if he knew it-yet mine the horror. Above the clashing of our swords I heard now the dull, hoarse roaring of the river below, heard its angry swish as it struck past the timbers of the bridge below-in my desire to save him I told him madly in my best Spanish to desist-to save himself. Also, I think, he saw upon my face some look of horror at the fate that must be his, some beads of sweat, perhaps, upon it, too-I know I felt them there-saw them, and-God help him! – misunderstood them. Misunderstood, and thought my look of horror, my sweat, were for my own safety.

With a leap, a roar, he came at me again like a tiger springing at its prey, his blows raining upon my sword; almost I thought that even now he would have borne me to the earth, have conquered. And I thrust blindly, too, in desperation, knew that my blade was through his arm, saw him jump back, stagger-and disappear!

And up from below where he had last stood there came a scream of awful fear and terror, the branches and the bushes crashed, there was a thud upon the water a hundred feet below-and then nothing more but the swirl of the river and its hoarse murmur as it swept along.

It had not taken much time in the doing. A moment later I was running up the road to where the gate stood, swung back now so that the road was clear. And Juan was sitting on his horse, a pistol in his hand, and in the road, standing beneath him, his hands by his side, stood the last remaining man, dreading to move, palsied with fright, and speechless.

"What shall we do with him?" the youth asked, turning on me a face in which there was now left no vestige of that brilliant colour it had once borne. "What? Kill him?" and his eyes flashed ominously, so that I knew the lust for blood was awakened.

"Nay," I said. "Nay. There is no need for that. Bind him and lock him up here in his hut. That will do very well. Also, he is old. What of these others?" and I turned to those who lay in the road.

As I looked at them, it seemed that none were hurt to death-for which I was thankful enough, since a soldier needs but to disable his enemy, and seeks not to take life needlessly. The one whom I had first cut down seemed to have but a scalp wound-doubtless the thick, coarse hat of felt he wore had turned my blade; he whom I had run through the shoulder had but a flesh wound, which would trouble him for some weeks at most; while the fellow whom Juan had pinked had got an ugly gash in the neck.

"We will put them all in here together," I said, pointing to their hut, "then leave them. Doubtless they will be relieved in some hours. Yet the longer ere it happens the better. We must press on and on till we are well clear of this part of the world. There will be a hue and cry."

After saying which, I proceeded to drag the wounded men in-one of them was able to enter the place unaided, though not without many melancholy groans and ejaculations-and then motioned to the old man to follow.

But now, obeying me even as I so pointed to the door, he cast an imploring glance at Juan, and then muttered something to him, the boy answering him with a laugh. And on my demanding to know what he had said, my companion replied:

"He saw you take up the lamp. Therefore he asked if you were going to burn them all when they were locked in the hut."

"Humph!" I said. "It has not quite come to that."

Time was, however, precious now, therefore it was useless for us to remain here any longer, or to waste any more of it; whereon, again taking up the lamp, I carried it out into the road. Then I removed the key from where it hung by the side of the door, and, going out, locked them all inside.

"Now," I said, "they can remain there till some one comes by to set them free. Yet, if that some one comes across from Portugal, and our late landlord speaks truth, they will be in no hurry to do that friendly office for them." After which I blew out the lamp, and, walking to the edge of the under precipice, hurled both it and the key down into the river beneath.

For some time after we had set out upon our journey again we rode in silence, Juan being as much occupied, I supposed, with his thoughts as I with mine. And, indeed, my own were none of the pleasantest; above all I regretted that that brave man with whom I had fought had gone to his doom. For, although killing was my trade, and although I had already taken part in several skirmishes and fights, I had none too great a liking for having been obliged to slay him. Yet I consoled myself with the reflection that it was his life or mine, and with that I had to be content. But also there were other things that troubled me, amongst them being what I feared would prove certain, namely, that there would be that hue and cry after us of which I had spoken for some time at least, and until we had left the frontier far behind. Nor, since Lugo was but a short distance from this place, would it be possible for us to stop there even for so much as a night's rest. We must go on and on till we had outstripped all chance of being recognised as the two men who had forced themselves into a hostile country in the manner we had done.

But now, breaking in on these reflections, I heard Juan's soft voice speaking to me, murmuring words of admiration and affection.

"Mervan," he said, "if I liked you before-ay! from the very moment you stood outside the cabin door of La Sacra Familia and bade me unlock it, and when the first sound of your voice told me I had naught to fear-I love you now. My life upon it! you are a brave man, such as I delight in seeing."

I laughed a little at this compliment, yet soberly, too, for this was no time for mirth-also, I recognised clearly enough that every step the animals beneath us took brought us nearer to other dangers, by the side of which our recent adventure was but child's play-then answered:

"And what of yourself, Juan? You have done pretty well, too, I'm thinking; go on like this, and you will be fitted to ride stirrup to stirrup with the most grim old blades of Marlborough's armies when we get to Flanders-if we ever do! I thought you nervous, to speak solemn truth; now I am glad to have you by my side."

"Yet," said the boy, his face radiant with delight, as I saw when he turned it on me under the rays of the moon, "I was deathly sick with fear all the time. Oh! my God!" he cried suddenly, "what should I have done, what become of me, if you had been struck down?" Then added, anxiously, a moment later. "You are not wounded?"

"Not a scratch. And you?"

"Nor I, either. Yet I was so faint as I guarded that old man by the gate, that I doubted if I could sit the horse much longer; I should have fallen to earth, I do verily believe, had you not joined me when you did."

"Poor lad," I said, "poor lad. You have chosen but a rough road, a dangerous companion. You should have gone to England in the Pembroke, with the fleet. You would have been half way there by now, and in safety."

"Never!" he said. "Never!" And, as if to give emphasis to his words, he turned round in his saddle toward me, placing his left hand on the cantle as though to obtain a steady glance of my face, and continued.

"I told you we were friends, sworn friends and true. Also, that to be together was all that I asked. Mervan, our friendship is rivetted, bound, now; nothing but death or disaster shall part us-nothing; till at least, this journey is concluded. Then-then-if you choose to turn me off you may; but not before. You have not yet learnt, do not know yet, what a Spanish-a-a man reared amongst Spaniards feels when he swears eternal friendship."

After which he regained his position and rode on, looking straight between his horse's ears. But once I heard him mutter to himself, though still not so low, either, but what I heard it very well:

"Friendship. Diôs!"

And this warm, fervent youth, this creature full of emotion and glowing friendship, was him against whom the admiral had expressed some distaste when he learned that I proposed to ride in his company; had doubted if that companionship might not be of evil influence over my fortunes during the journey. If he knew nothing, what did it all mean? I asked myself. Above all (and this I had pondered on again and again, though without being able to arrive at any answer to the riddle), why warn me against one whom he, when brought into contact with that one himself, had treated with such scrupulous deference?

Even as I thought again upon these things I resolved that as our acquaintance, our friendship and comradeship ripened, I would ask Juan who and what he was.

For at present I knew no more than I have written down-that he was young and handsome, and was well to do. But beneath all, was there some mystery attached to him? Some mystery which the older and more far seeing eyes of Sir George had been able to pry into and discover, while mine were still blinded to it?