Part 28 (1/2)
The calm and dignified manner of the brave colonel rebuked the officious priests, and they returned without venturing to utter any of the contemptuous remarks which they had bestowed on his less polished fellow-sufferers.
Crowds collected in the streets to see the mournful procession pa.s.s: most of the Englishmen walked boldly on, with heads erect and undismayed countenances; many of them, indeed, scarcely believed that the government would venture to put them to death; the natives, on the contrary, fully aware of the sanguinary disposition of their countrymen, expected no mercy, but marched on with trembling knees and downcast countenances, expecting the fate which awaited them. They had been captured in open rebellion, attempting to overthrow the government, and were conscious how they themselves would have treated their enemies had they exchanged places.
The crowd gathered rapidly, eager to indulge themselves of the spectacle which was about to take place. Suddenly there came a booming sound of a gun across the harbour followed by the thunder of several others, one at short intervals much louder than the rest. The colonel and Captain Crowhurst turned their heads.
”Those guns come from vessels in action,” said Tom; ”perhaps one is an English s.h.i.+p; if so she is sure to give the Dons a drubbing.”
Some of the crowd hastened to the harbour to see what had taken place.
The soldiers advanced with their prisoners at a more rapid rate than before; they quickly reached an open place just outside the town. Here they stopped, and presently several officers came on the field. The prisoners were marched a short distance to the front of the troops, who extended their line on either side of them. An officer of rank with his staff now rode up. Colonel O'Regan on seeing him stepped forward.
”General Carmona,” he said, ”I have been your enemy, and have no hope of mercy at our hands. I, therefore, do not ask it for myself; I speak for these men, who if they have broken your laws did so in ignorance; still more earnestly do I entreat you not to injure these two young English officers, who, as I informed your commodore, are entirely guiltless.
They were saved at sea from a wreck by the brig on board which I was a pa.s.senger, and if you put them to death you will bring the vengeance of their countrymen on your head; you may have some excuse for shooting me, but you will have none if you murder them, for murder it will be, whatever you may call it.”
This address seemed to have some effect on the general, who, however, issued no counter-orders to the officers charged with the execution of the prisoners. The colonel, with the two masters and their four mates, together with the princ.i.p.al natives (all of whom appeared to be of the rank of officers) were placed in a row, when several soldiers came behind them for the purpose of binding handkerchiefs over their eyes.
The colonel turned round to the men who were about to perform that office for him with a calm smile.
”I desire to gaze my last on the blue sky above us,” he said gently.
”Let me at least die like a soldier--it is the only favour I ask.”
His companions followed the colonel's example, and begged to be allowed to die with eyes unbound. The general now ordered the officer in command of the firing-party to hurry his preparations.
”As you have so many to dispose of, it would have made shorter work had you placed them all together,” he shouted out.
The rest of the prisoners had, in the meantime, been led on one side to await their turn. The firing-party now advanced--the doomed men gazed at them with pale, though undaunted countenances. The commanding officer, in a loud, harsh voice, gave the usual order, ”Make ready,”
”Present,” then came the fatal word--”Fire!” Some fell forward, shot dead; others were struggling and writhing on the ground; Colonel O'Regan alone was standing upright. It was but for a moment; he was seen to stagger forward, then to fall heavily on his face. Regardless of the danger they ran from the firing-party, who advanced to plunge their bayonets into the bodies of those who still had life in them, Tom and Archy dashed forward with the idea of helping their unfortunate friend.
They attempted to raise him, but the expression of his countenance, and the blood oozing from a wound in his breast, told them but too truly that all was over; and had not their guards, who were alarmed on their own account at having allowed them to escape, dragged them back they would probably have been bayoneted on the spot. Just then an officer, who came galloping up with looks of consternation on his countenance, informed the general that his corvette, the chief vessel of his navy with which he believed that he could defy the world, had struck her flag to a British brig-of-war, and that his brig had been sent to the bottom.
The news produced an electric effect on him and his officers. He at once gave orders that the surviving English prisoners should be conducted back to gaol under charge of a small body of troops, while the rest were marched off to the batteries.
”We have had a narrow escape,” said Tom to Archy, not at the time aware to what cause they were indebted for their preservation. ”We ought indeed to be thankful; but I would have given anything to have saved the colonel. Poor Miss O'Regan, what will she do with no one to look after her?”
”But we will do our best!” answered Archy; ”and as I have a notion that she will some day be my cousin, I have a sort of right, you know, to watch over her.”
”But in the meantime what shall we say to that poor young lady?” asked Tom.
”I haven't the heart to tell her that her father has been shot,”
answered Archy, ”though, of course, something must be said; we must not tell her a falsehood, that's certain.”
”Then we must just say that we were marched out into the country, when firing was heard which we have no doubt came from an English s.h.i.+p of war, and then we were marched back again,” said Tom. ”If she asks any further questions we need not say anything more, and perhaps before long we shall all be on board, when she will be better able to bear her misfortune than she would be shut up in prison.”
Much to their satisfaction the mids.h.i.+pmen were taken back to the room they had before occupied. The great drawback, however, was the fear they felt of being cross-questioned by Miss O'Regan. They had not been there long before they heard the gaoler's wife go into her room; and they guessed that she would tell the poor girl more than they themselves could venture to do.
There was a great deal of talking, and after some time the old woman went away. Scarcely had she gone than Miss O'Regan opened their door.
”I have important news for you,” she exclaimed, in an animated tone: and she gave them the information she had just heard, that an English brig-of-war had captured the whole of the Carthagenan fleet, and that the authorities as well as the people were in a state of the greatest possible alarm and agitation.
”We may expect therefore to be speedily liberated,” she added. ”My poor father must also be set free.”
She had been so interested in describing what she had heard that she did not make the inquiries they expected, and the mids.h.i.+pmen were saved the pain of informing her of her father's death.