Part 7 (2/2)

Azito after a few steps turned aside from the stables, from the other side of which came the heavy tramp of the sentry's feet, and struck into the undergrowth towards a small plantation about three hundred yards from the house. They bent low to avoid observation, but the night was so dark that they must have been invisible at the distance of ten feet.

Not till they were safe among the trees did either speak a word; then Will asked the Indian to stop. They looked back towards the house.

Several of the rooms were lit up, and broad beams of light threw a ghostly radiance on the gardens around.

”Thank you, Azito,” said Will in low tones.

”I did it, senor, not Jose,” replied the man.

”Ah! what do you know of Jose?”

”We wanted, both of us, senor, to make a hole in the wall, but we did not know where the senor was in the stables. Jose tried to find out, but Senor Machado caught him.”

”And where were you?”

”I was in the wood on the other side of the lake. I saw all that happened, senor.”

”Where is Jose now?”

”I do not know, senor. I did not see him come out of the house.”

Will wished that his rescuer had been Jose rather than the Indian, for the negro boy had been his servant for many months, and had often helped him with the hydroplane. To find the hydroplane and set off in it to Bolivar was the immediate duty of the moment. It would be no easy matter to find his way to it in the dark, and he felt the lack of Jose's guidance; but since it seemed impossible to have Jose, he determined to do his best with Azito.

They had not gone far, however, when Azito remarked that when hiding in the wood he had heard Jose cry out, as if he were being whipped.

”Why didn't you tell me before?” demanded Will, stopping short.

”It was so little to tell, senor,” replied the man.

It was indeed a trifling matter to Azito. The Indians were accustomed to being struck, sometimes in punishment for faults, sometimes in wanton mischief and delight in witnessing pain. But it was no trifling matter to Will, and remembering the Chief's suggestion that Machado had captured Jose in order to discover from him the whereabouts of the hydroplane, Will resolved to retrace his steps, go to the house, and at least try to find out what was happening to the boy. When he told Azito this, the Indian said the senor was not wise.

”It must be done,” replied Will.

”I will go, senor.”

”No, no; stay where you are. You have done enough. Lend me your knife, and wait for me here.”

He took the Indian's long knife, and having no belt, had to carry it in his hand.

”Which room did Jose's cries come from?” he asked.

”A room in the front, senor.”

This was awkward. In order to get to the front of the house he must either go past the stables or make a long circuit through the gardens.

Since there were lights in the side of the house visible to him, it was very probable that the rooms in the front were also lit up. This would make it difficult to approach unseen, and he thought for a moment of waiting until the lights were put out for the night; but he saw on reflection that his chance of discovering the negro in the dark would be very small. He decided therefore to make for the back of the house, and to let his future proceedings be guided by circ.u.mstances.

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