Part 13 (1/2)
”We are not the only ones in trouble,” whispered Jack.
”What does it mean? Hark, Jack! she is pleading for her liberty.
There is a man's voice, and he, too, is begging for some one to spare his life. Is there nothing we can do for them?”
”It looks as if we had about all we could look after to save our own lives, lad. But, as long as it is in our way let's creep a little nearer the place.”
The insurgents, having apparently moved farther to their right, they cautiously advanced, being careful not to disturb a bush or make any noise. They advanced in this way for a few rods, when they found themselves on the margin of a sunken swamp, dense with a growth of vines and bushes enveloped in moss and lichens. Finding this impenetrable, they crawled along its border, though forced to steer more to their right than they thought prudent. It was evidently this impa.s.sable jungle which had changed the course of the insurgents.
They must have advanced a hundred rods without finding any end to the swamp, when the sound of voices now became distinctly heard, though they were not raised above an ordinary tone. It was the same woman speaking they had heard before, while her accents were scarcely less intense. She was saying, in Spanish:
”Have mercy, senors! I have never wronged you nor the poor country you profess to be fighting for. My poor husband died in her defense, and I am willing to give my life in her cause, but do not torture me.”
”Tell us where he is and we will spare you,” replied a masculine voice, pitched in a high key.
”Alas! I do not know. I would that I did, senors. But if I did you cannot think me cowardly enough to betray him, not at the price of my poor life. G.o.d forbid that I should for a moment have such a thought or that you should so far misjudge me in my weakness. He is all there is left me--if he yet lives, which I am not certain--my n.o.ble son, the n.o.blest of the De Caprians.”
At the mention of that name Ronie and Jack instantly remembered the brave young exile then with Harrie in prison at San Carlos, and, as may be imagined, listened with excitement hard to suppress for the next words, which were hissed rather than spoken by the man who held her a prisoner:
”You lie!” and the concealed listeners fancied they could see him lift his armed hand over her head, as if he would kill her then and there.
Her reply was spoken with the calmness born of despair:
”Think as you will, senor; I have spoken the truth. Had I a dozen lives depending on my answer, it would be the same. Kill me if you wish. I can die without a regret, knowing that Francisco is not here to witness my death or suffer at your hands, El Capitan.”
”She is Francisco's mother,” whispered Ronie, anxiously.
”Ay, lad; and he is Rhoades, the insurgent leader.”
”Must we let him butcher her in cold blood and remain inactive?” asked Ronie, whose hot nature was aroused by this unwarranted treatment of a helpless captive.
”Hist!” warned Jack. ”We are watched by an enemy in yon coppice.”
Ronie saw nothing in the direction indicated by his companion, but under the circ.u.mstances he felt certain he was right, and he grasped his firearm more firmly, feeling that it would not be long before he would be obliged to use it. The voices of the speakers ahead had become silent, so that not a sound broke the stillness of the scene.
”What can we do, Jack?”
”I have been thinking lad, that it may be well for us to do a little scouting, in order to get a better idea of the situation. That fellow in the thicket has got to be disposed of before we can do much else.
If you will lie here and not let any of them spring a surprise on you, I will see what I can do in the way of Indian warfare. I do not believe I have lost the little cunning I picked up in fighting the Igorrotos of Luzon.”
Without waiting for Ronie's reply, Jack began to creep to their rear, moving so silently that our hero was not aware of his retreat until he had fairly left his side. The voice of the insurgent chief again fell on his ear, followed by the reply of the woman, which was spoken too low for him to distinguish. Jack had now disappeared, and he knew he was alone in the midst of enemies.
Five minutes dragged themselves slowly away without bringing any material change in the situation. Ronie had not discovered any sign of Jack, but twice he had seen a man's head thrust cautiously above the matted undergrowth where he knew one of their enemies lurked.
Evidently the scout, for such he judged him to be, was getting uneasy and anxious to end the suspense. During the time he had heard a small body of hors.e.m.e.n ride up to where the insurgent leader and his prisoner were stopping.
”Jack told me at the end of five minutes to lift my cap on the muzzle above the rim of bushes,” he mused. ”The time must be up now. I think I will try it.”
Then Ronie removed the covering on his head, and, placing it on the end of his rifle barrel, gently raised the weapon as he had been told, in doubt as to what the result would be. He had barely accomplished the simple feat before the sharp report of a firearm rang out, and a bullet sped just over him with a hearty zip! The cap dropped by his side, and when he came to pick it up he found that it had a hole through its crown where the bullet had gone. Most a.s.suredly the insurgent was a good marksman, and he shuddered to think what his own fate would have been had he carelessly exposed himself.
The shot of the sharpshooter brought an exclamation from the lips of the chief, but beyond that Ronie heard nothing to explain to him what was succeeding. He fancied at first he heard the man starting toward him, but he was not quite sure of it. He was becoming alarmed in regard to Jack. Where could he be all this time? Had he fallen into some trap and become a prisoner? In the midst of these reflections he suddenly became aware of the presence of some one near him, and he was about to act in his defense when the familiar voice of Jack caused him to stop.