My Hildegarde

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 74522 ***

EAGLE SERIES

NO. 329

BY
ST. GEORGE RATHBORNE

STREET & SMITH
PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK

...The...
Eagle Series
of Popular Fiction

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It is composed, mainly, of popular copyrighted titleswhich cannot be had in any other lines, at any price. The authors,as far as literary ability and reputation are concerned, represent theforemost men and women of their time. The books, without exception,are of entrancing interest and manifestly those most desiredby the American reading public. A purchase of two or three ofthese books, at random, will make you a firm believer that there isno line of novels which can compare favorably with the Eagle Series.

327	—	Was She Wife or Widow?	By Malcolm Bell
326	—	Parted by Fate	By Laura Jean Libbey
325	—	The Leighton Homestead (Double Number)	By Mary J. Holmes
324	—	A Love Match	By Sylvanus Cobb
323	—	The Little Countess	By S. E. Boggs
322	—	Mildred	By Mrs. Mary J. Holmes
321	—	Neva’s Three Lovers (Double Number)	By Mrs. Harriet Lewis
320	—	Mynheer Joe	By St. George Rathborne
319	—	Millbank	By Mary J. Holmes
318	—	Staunch of Heart	By Charles Garvice
317	—	Ione	By Laura Jean Libbey
316	—	Edith Lyle’s Secret (Double Number)	By Mary J. Holmes
315	—	The Dark Secret	By May Agnes Fleming
314	—	A Maid’s Fatal Love	By Helen Corwin Pierce
313	—	A Kinsman’s Sin	By Effie Adelaide Rowlands
312	—	Woven on Fate’s Loom	By Charles Garvice
311	—	Wedded by Fate (Double Number)	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon
310	—	A Late Repentance	By Mary A. Denison
309	—	The Heiress of Castle Cliffe	By May Agnes Fleming
308	—	Lady Ryhope’s Lover	By Emma Garrison Jones
307	—	The Winning of Isolde	By St. George Rathborne
306	—	Love’s Golden Rule	By Geraldine Fleming
305	—	Led by Love	By Charles Garvice
304	—	Staunch as a Woman	By Charles Garvice.
303	—	The Queen of the Isle	By May Agnes Fleming.
302	—	When Man’s Love Fades	By Hazel Wood.
301	—	The False and the True	By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
300	—	The Spider and the Fly	By Charles Garvice.
299	—	Little Miss Whirlwind	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
298	—	Should She Have Left Him?	By William C. Hudson.
297	—	That Girl from Texas	By Mrs. J. H. Walworth.
296	—	The Heir of Vering	By Charles Garvice.
295	—	A Terrible Secret	By Geraldine Fleming.
294	—	A Warrior Bold	By St. George Rathborne.
293	—	For Love of Anne Lambart	By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
292	—	For Her Only	By Charles Garvice.
291	—	A Mysterious Wedding Ring	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
290	—	A Change of Heart	By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
289	—	Married in Mask	By Mansfield T. Walworth.
288	—	Sibyl’s Influence	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
287	—	The Lady of Darracourt	By Charles Garvice.
286	—	A Debt of Vengeance	By Mrs. E. Burke Collins.
285	—	Born to Betray	By Mrs. M. V. Victor.
284	—	Dr. Jack’s Widow	By St. George Rathborne.
283	—	My Lady Pride	By Charles Garvice.
282	—	The Forsaken Bride	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
281	—	For Love Alone	By Wenona Gilman.
280	—	Love’s Dilemma	By Charles Garvice.
279	—	Nina’s Peril	By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
278	—	Laura Brayton	By Julia Edwards.
277	—	Brownie’s Triumph	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
276	—	So Nearly Lost	By Charles Garvice.
275	—	Love’s Cruel Whim	By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
274	—	A Romantic Girl	By Evelyn E. Green.
273	—	At Swords’ Points	By St. George Rathborne.
272	—	So Fair, So False	By Charles Garvice.
271	—	With Love’s Laurel Crowned	By W. C. Stiles.
270	—	Had She Foreseen	By Dora Delmar.
269	—	Brunette and Blonde	By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
268	—	Olivia; or, It Was for Her Sake	By Charles Garvice.
267	—	Jeanne	By Charles Garvice.
266	—	The Welfleet Mystery	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
265	—	First Love is Best	By S. K. Hocking.
264	—	For Gold or Soul	By Lurana W. Sheldon.
263	—	An American Nabob	By St. George Rathborne.
262	—	A Woman’s Faith	By Henry Wallace.
261	—	A Siren’s Heart	By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
260	—	At a Girl’s Mercy	By Jean Kate Ludlum.
259	—	By a Golden Cord	By Dora Delmar.
258	—	An Amazing Marriage	By Mrs. Sumner Hayden.
257	—	A Martyred Love	By Charles Garvice.
256	—	Thy Name is Woman	By F. H. Howe.
255	—	The Little Marplot	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
254	—	Little Miss Millions	By St. George Rathborne.
253	—	A Fashionable Marriage	By Mrs. Alex Frazer.
252	—	A Handsome Sinner	By Dora Delmar.
251	—	When Love is True	By Mable Collins.
250	—	A Woman’s Soul	By Charles Garvice.
249	—	What Love Will Do	By Geraldine Fleming.
248	—	Jeanne, Countess Du Barry	By H. L. Williams.
247	—	Within Love’s Portals	By Frank Barrett.
246	—	True to Herself	By Mrs. J. H. Walworth.
245	—	A Modern Marriage	By Clara Lanza.
244	—	A Hoiden’s Conquest	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
243	—	His Double Self	By Scott Campbell.
242	—	A Wounded Heart	By Charles Garvice.
241	—	Her Love and Trust	By Adeline Sergeant.
240	—	Saved by the Sword	By St. George Rathborne.
239	—	Don Cæsar De Bazan	By Victor Hugo.
238	—	That Other Woman	By Annie Thomas.
237	—	Woman or Witch?	By Dora Delmar.
235	—	Gratia’s Trials	By Lucy Randall Comfort.
234	—	His Mother’s Sin	By Adeline Sergeant.
233	—	Nora	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
232	—	A Debt of Honor	By Mabel Collins.
230	—	A Woman’s Atonement, and A Mother’s Mistake	By Adah M. Howard.
229	—	For the Sake of the Family	By May Crommelin.
228	—	His Brother’s Widow	By Mary Grace Halpine.
227	—	For Love and Honor	By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
226	—	The Roll of Honor	By Annie Thomas.
225	—	A Miserable Woman	By Mrs. H. C. Hoffman.
224	—	A Sister’s Sacrifice	By Geraldine Fleming.
223	—	Leola Dale’s Fortune	By Charles Garvice.
222	—	The Lily of Mordaunt	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
221	—	The Honorable Jane	By Annie Thomas.
220	—	A Fatal Past	By Dora Russell.
219	—	Lost, A Pearle	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
218	—	A Life for a Love	By Mrs. L. T. Meade.
217	—	His Noble Wife	By George Manville Fenn.
216	—	The Lost Bride	By Clara Augusta.
215	—	Only a Girl’s Love	By Charles Garvice.
214	—	Olga’s Crime	By Frank Barrett.
213	—	The Heiress of Egremont	By Mrs. Harriet Lewis.
212	—	Doubly Wronged	By Adah M. Howard.
211	—	As We Forgive	By Lurana W. Sheldon.
210	—	Wild Oats	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
209	—	She Loved but Left Him	By Julia Edwards.
208	—	A Chase for a Bride	By St. George Rathborne.
207	—	Little Golden’s Daughter	By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
206	—	A Daughter of Maryland	By G. Waldo Browne.
205	—	If Love Be Love	By D. Cecil Gibbs.
204	—	With Heart So True	By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
203	—	Only One Love	By Charles Garvice.
202	—	Marjorie	By Katharine S. MacQuoid.
201	—	Blind Elsie’s Crime	By Mary Grace Halpine.
200	—	In God’s Country	By D. Higbee.
199	—	Geoffrey’s Victory	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
198	—	Guy Kenmore’s Wife, and The Rose and the Lily	By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
197	—	A Woman Scorned	By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
196	—	A Sailor’s Sweetheart	By the author of Dr. Jack.
195	—	Her Faithful Knight	By Gertrude Warden.
194	—	A Sinless Crime	By Geraldine Fleming.
193	—	A Vagabond’s Honor	By Ernest De Lancey Pierson.
192	—	An Old Man’s Darling, and Jacquelina	By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
191	—	A Harvest of Thorns	By Mrs. H. C. Hoffman.
190	—	A Captain of the Kaiser	By St. George Rathborne.
189	—	Berris	By Katharine S. MacQuoid.
188	—	Dorothy Arnold’s Escape	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
187	—	The Black Ball	By Ernest De Lancey Pierson.
186	—	Beneath a Spell	By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
185	—	The Adventures of Miss Volney	By Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
184	—	Sunlight and Gloom	By Geraldine Fleming.
183	—	Quo Vadis	By Henryk Sienkiewicz.
182	—	A Legal Wreck	By William Gillette.
181	—	The Baronet’s Bride	By May Agnes Fleming.
180	—	A Lazy Man’s Work	By Frances Campbell Sparhawk.
179	—	One Man’s Evil	By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
178	—	A Slave of Circumstances	By Ernest De Lancey Pierson.
177	—	A True Aristocrat	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
176	—	Jack Gordon, Knight Errant	By William C. Hudson. (Barclay North).
175	—	For Honor’s Sake	By Laura C. Ford.
174	—	His Guardian Angel	By Charles Garvice.
173	—	A Bar Sinister	By the author of Dr. Jack.
172	—	A King and a Coward	By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
171	—	That Dakota Girl	By Stella Gilman.
170	—	A Little Radical	By Mrs. J. H. Walworth.
169	—	The Trials of an Actress	By Wenona Gilman.
168	—	Thrice Lost, Thrice Won	By May Agnes Fleming.
167	—	The Manhattaners	By Edward S. Van Zile.
166	—	The Masked Bridal	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
165	—	The Road of the Rough	By Maurice M. Minton.
164	—	Couldn’t Say No	By the author of Helen’s Babies.
163	—	A Splendid Egotist	By Mrs. J. H. Walworth.
162	—	A Man of the Name of John	By Florence King.
161	—	Miss Fairfax of Virginia	By the author of Dr. Jack.
160	—	His Way and Her Will	By Frances Aymar Mathews.
159	—	A Fair Maid of Marblehead	By Kate Tannatt Woods.
158	—	Stella, the Star	By Wenona Gilman.
157	—	Who Wins?	By May Agnes Fleming.
156	—	A Soldier Lover	By Edward S. Brooks.
155	—	Nameless Dell	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
154	—	Husband and Foe	By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
153	—	Her Son’s Wife	By Hazel Wood.
152	—	A Mute Confessor	By Will N. Harben.
151	—	The Heiress of Glen Gower	By May Agnes Fleming.
150	—	Sunset Pass	By General Charles King.
149	—	The Man She Loved	By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
148	—	Will She Win?	By Emma Garrison Jones.
147	—	Under Egyptian Skies	By the author of Dr. Jack.
146	—	Magdalen’s Vow	By May Agnes Fleming.
145	—	Country Lanes and City Pavements	By Maurice M. Minton.
144	—	Dorothy’s Jewels	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
143	—	A Charity Girl	By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
142	—	Her Rescue from the Turks	By the author of Dr. Jack.
141	—	Lady Evelyn	By May Agnes Fleming.
140	—	That Girl of Johnson’s	By Jean Kate Ludlum.
139	—	Little Lady Charles	By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
138	—	A Fatal Wooing	By Laura Jean Libbey.
137	—	A Wedded Widow	By T. W. Hanshew.
136	—	The Unseen Bridegroom	By May Agnes Fleming.
135	—	Cast Up by the Tide	By Dora Delmar.
134	—	Squire John	By the author of Dr. Jack.
133	—	Max	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
132	—	Whose Was the Crime?	By Gertrude Warden.
131	—	Nerine’s Second Choice	By Adelaide Stirling.
130	—	A Bitter Bondage	By Bertha M. Clay.
129	—	In Sight of St. Paul’s	By Sutton Vane.
128	—	The Scent of the Roses	By Dora Delmar.
127	—	Nobody’s Daughter	By Clara Augusta.
126	—	The Girl from Hong Kong	By the author of Dr. Jack.
125	—	Devil’s Island	By A. D. Hall.
124	—	Prettiest of All	By Julia Edwards.
123	—	Northern Lights	By A. D. Hall.
122	—	Grazia’s Mistake	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
121	—	Cecile’s Marriage	By Lucy Randall Comfort.
120	—	The White Squadron	By T. C. Harbaugh.
119	—	An Ideal Love	By Bertha M. Clay.
118	—	Saved from the Sea	By Richard Duffy.
117	—	She Loved Him	By Charles Garvice.
116	—	The Daughter of the Regiment	By Mary A. Denison.
115	—	A Fair Revolutionist	By the author of Dr. Jack.
114	—	Half a Truth	By Dora Delmar.
113	—	A Crushed Lily	By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
112	—	The Cattle King	By A. D. Hall.
111	—	Faithful Shirley	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
110	—	Whose Wife Is She?	By Annie Lisle.
109	—	A Heart’s Bitterness	By Bertha M. Clay.
108	—	A Son of Mars	By the author of Dr. Jack.
107	—	Carla; or, Married at Sight	By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
106	—	Lilian, My Lilian	By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
105	—	When London Sleeps	By Chas. Darrell.
104	—	A Proud Dishonor	By Genie Holzmeyer.
103	—	The Span of Life	By Sutton Vane.
102	—	Fair But Faithless	By Bertha M. Clay.
101	—	A Goddess of Africa	By the author of Dr. Jack.
100	—	Alice Blake	By Francis S. Smith.
99	—	Audrey’s Recompense	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
98	—	Claire	By Charles Garvice.
97	—	The War Reporter	By Warren Edwards.
96	—	The Little Minister	By J. M. Barrie.
95	—	’Twixt Love and Hate	By Bertha M. Clay.
94	—	Darkest Russia	By H. Grattan Donnelly.
93	—	A Queen of Treachery	By T. W. Hanshew.
92	—	Humanity	By Sutton Vane.
91	—	Sweet Violet	By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
90	—	For Fair Virginia	By Russ Whytal.
89	—	A Gentleman from Gascony	By Bicknell Dudley.
88	—	Virgie’s Inheritance	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
87	—	Shenandoah	By J. Perkins Tracy.
86	—	A Widowed Bride	By Lucy Randall Comfort.
85	—	Lorrie; or, Hollow Gold	By Charles Garvice.
84	—	Between Two Hearts	By Bertha M. Clay.
83	—	The Locksmith of Lyons	By Prof. Wm. Henry Peck.
82	—	Captain Impudence	By Edwin Milton Royle.
81	—	Wedded for an Hour	By Emma Garrison Jones.
80	—	The Fair Maid of Fez	By the author of Dr. Jack.
79	—	Marjorie Deane	By Bertha M. Clay.
78	—	The Yankee Champion	By Sylvanus Cobb, Jr.
77	—	Tina	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
76	—	Mavourneen	From the celebrated play.
75	—	Under Fire	By T. P. James.
74	—	The Cotton King	By Sutton Vane.
73	—	The Marquis	By Charles Garvice.
72	—	Willful Winnie	By Harriet Sherburne.
71	—	The Spider’s Web	By the author of Dr. Jack.
70	—	In Love’s Crucible	By Bertha M. Clay.
69	—	His Perfect Trust	By a popular author.
68	—	The Little Cuban Rebel	By Edna Winfield.
67	—	Gismonda	By Victorien Sardou.
66	—	Witch Hazel	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
65	—	Won by the Sword	By J. Perkins Tracy.
64	—	Dora Tenney	By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
63	—	Lawyer Bell from Boston	By Robert Lee Tyler.
62	—	Stella Stirling	By Julia Edwards.
61	—	La Tosca	By Victorien Sardou.
60	—	The County Fair	By Neil Burgess.
59	—	Gladys Greye	By Bertha M. Clay.
58	—	Major Matterson of Kentucky	By the author of Dr. Jack.
57	—	Rosamond	By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
56	—	The Dispatch Bearer	By Warren Edwards.
55	—	Thrice Wedded	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
54	—	Cleopatra	By Victorien Sardou.
53	—	The Old Homestead	By Denman Thompson.
52	—	Woman Against Woman	By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
51	—	The Price He Paid	By E. Werner.
50	—	Her Ransom	By Charles Garvice.
49	—	None But the Brave	By Robert Lee Tyler.
48	—	Another Man’s Wife	By Bertha M. Clay.
47	—	The Colonel by Brevet	By the author of Dr. Jack.
46	—	Off with the Old Love	By Mrs. M. V. Victor.
45	—	A Yale Man	By Robert Lee Tyler.
44	—	That Dowdy	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
43	—	Little Coquette Bonnie	By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
42	—	Another Woman’s Husband	By Bertha M. Clay.
41	—	Her Heart’s Desire	By Charles Garvice.
40	—	Monsieur Bob	By the author of Dr. Jack.
39	—	The Colonel’s Wife	By Warren Edwards.
38	—	The Nabob of Singapore	By the author of Dr. Jack.
37	—	The Heart of Virginia	By J. Perkins Tracy.
36	—	Fedora	By Victorien Sardou.
35	—	The Great Mogul	By the author of Dr. Jack.
34	—	Pretty Geraldine	By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
33	—	Mrs. Bob	By the author of Dr. Jack.
32	—	The Blockade Runner	By J. Perkins Tracy.
31	—	A Siren’s Love	By Robert Lee Tyler.
30	—	Baron Sam	By the author of Dr. Jack.
29	—	Theodora	By Victorien Sardou.
28	—	Miss Caprice	By the author of Dr. Jack.
27	—	Estelle’s Millionaire Lover	By Julia Edwards.
26	—	Captain Tom	By the author of Dr. Jack.
25	—	Little Southern Beauty	By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
24	—	A Wasted Love	By Charles Garvice.
23	—	Miss Pauline of New York	By the author of Dr. Jack.
22	—	Elaine	By Charles Garvice.
21	—	A Heart’s Idol	By Bertha M. Clay.
20	—	The Senator’s Bride	By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
19	—	Mr. Lake of Chicago	By Harry DuBois Milman.
18	—	Dr. Jack’s Wife	By the author of Dr. Jack.
17	—	Leslie’s Loyalty	By Charles Garvice.
16	—	The Fatal Card	By Haddon Chambers and B. C. Stephenson.
15	—	Dr. Jack	By St. George Rathborne.
14	—	Violet Lisle	By Bertha M. Clay.
13	—	The Little Widow	By Julia Edwards.
12	—	Edrie’s Legacy	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
11	—	The Gypsy’s Daughter	By Bertha M. Clay.
10	—	Little Sunshine	By Francis S. Smith.
9	—	The Virginia Heiress	By May Agnes Fleming.
8	—	Beautiful But Poor	By Julia Edwards.
7	—	Two Keys	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
6	—	The Midnight Marriage	By A. M. Douglas.
5	—	The Senator’s Favorite	By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
4	—	For a Woman’s Honor	By Bertha M. Clay.
3	—	He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not	By Julia Edwards.
2	—	Ruby’s Reward	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
1	—	Queen Bess	By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.

[Pg 3]

A Strange Story of Adventure in the Land of
Revolutions

ST. GEORGE RATHBORNE

AUTHOR OF

“The Winning of Isolde,” “Little Miss Millions,” “Mynheer Joe,”
“Dr. Jack,” “Miss Fairfax of Virginia,” etc.

NEW YORK
STREET & SMITH, Publishers
238 William Street

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My Hildegarde

[Pg 5]

MY HILDEGARDE.

CHAPTER I. GAY OLD BOLIVAR.
CHAPTER II. PERHAPS A FOOL’S ERRAND.
CHAPTER III. MAN PROPOSES—FATE DISPOSES.
CHAPTER IV. WORSE THAN STRANGERS NOW.
CHAPTER V. WHERE JEALOUSY CAN LURK, LOVE IS NOT DEAD.
CHAPTER VI. A BAD BLUNDER.
CHAPTER VII. THE LOST KEY.
CHAPTER VIII. MY TURN COMES.
CHAPTER IX. SAVING THE SATCHEL.
CHAPTER X. THE SAME FOOL.
CHAPTER XI. A STERN CHASE.
CHAPTER XII. THE LAST RESORT.
CHAPTER XIII. LIVELY WHILE IT LASTED.
CHAPTER XIV. HILDEGARDE EMBARKS.
CHAPTER XV. THE EMBERS ARE STIRRED.
CHAPTER XVI. PASSING THE FORT.
CHAPTER XVII. AT TWO BELLS.
CHAPTER XVIII. THE MOCKERY OF FATE.
CHAPTER XIX. “POOR, WEAK, OLD PAPA.”
CHAPTER XX. I TRY TO BRIDGE THE CHASM.
CHAPTER XXI. IN THE GRASP OF A HURRICANE.
CHAPTER XXII. THE HOUR OF PERIL.
CHAPTER XXIII. THE WRECK OF THE YACHT.
CHAPTER XXIV. A NIGHT OF TERROR.
CHAPTER XXV. ON THE BRINK OF ETERNITY.
CHAPTER XXVI. THROUGH THE UNDERTOW.
CHAPTER XXVII. STRANDED.
CHAPTER XXVIII. THE HOSPITALITY OF THE ALCALDE.
CHAPTER XXIX. THE GUARD I LOVED.
CHAPTER XXX. TO THE RESCUE.
CHAPTER XXXI. A REVOLUTIONIST.
CHAPTER XXXII. WE INVESTIGATE THE AZOTEA.
CHAPTER XXXIII. ROBBINS LAUNCHES A THUNDERBOLT.
CHAPTER XXXIV. ONE GOOD TURN AND ANOTHER.
CHAPTER XXXV. HOW I CHARGED THE CITADEL.
CHAPTER XXXVI. THE LAST STRAW.
CHAPTER XXXVII. THE AGE OF ENCHANTMENT.
CHAPTER XXXVIII. A PRESIDENT FOR ONE NIGHT.
CHAPTER XXXIX. THE HAND OF THE WIZARD.
CHAPTER XL. WON AT LAST.

CHAPTER I.

GAY OLD BOLIVAR.

I was tremendously jaded, weary of knocking aboutthe world in the vain hope that a succession of strangesights, and rubbing elbows with queer people, mightcause me to forget some very unpleasant events in mypast; but which obstinately persisted in clinging to mewith a zeal I could not appreciate. So it chanced thatin my earnest endeavor to run away from the phantomthat seemed to pursue me, I managed to double on mytrail and actually overtook it.

It was in Bolivar, one of those semi-tropical cities onthe great gulf to the South of our American republic. Ofcourse, Bolivar was not the real name, but it will answerthe purpose just as well, especially since a narration ofthe remarkable events that came under my observationthere might stir up a hornet’s nest in the gay little republic,should the bare truth be set forth.

Somehow I quite fancied the place.

There was a bustle in the air rather unusual in Latin-Americancapitals, as though the good people had imbibedsome Yankee ambition from their near contact withthe States.

Particularly was this the case at this festal season of[Pg 6]the year when, in common with most Spanish-speakingpeople, the citizens of Bolivar entered with heart and soulinto the festival of flowers.

There must always be an attraction in a great concourseof merrymaking people absolutely given over toenjoyment; and as I witnessed this mad festival for thefirst time, I allowed myself to enter into its riotous fun—anythingto blot out the memory of the canker wormthat had so long held possession in my heart.

Flowers were everywhere—people in all manner ofvehicles, gayly decorated, pelted the pedestrians, and werethemselves overwhelmed with an avalanche of roses.

Mischievous damsels, lurking in every conceivable balconyor second-story window took great delight in droppinghandfuls of rice upon those who passed beneath.Merry laughter sounded on all sides, and it was hard forme to imagine that this gay city was really Bolivar, themysterious capital, queen of the romantic Gulf, wherehalf the dark conspiracies that startled the Spanish-Americanrepublics were hatched; home of revolutionistsexiled for the time being from their native shores, and aswicked a place for its size in all probability as might befound upon the entire terrestrial ball.

And when night came the fun waxed more furiousthan ever—there is always an inspiration about the gloamingto these citizens of semi-tropical marts—the heat ofthe day gives place to a delicious, cool air that steals inmayhap over the sparkling blue waters of a glorious bay,bringing the odor of sweet incense as of fragment spices—soundslose their harsh clang and become strangelymellowed; wonderful fireflies flash their electric lanternsabroad, music steals upon the senses from over many agarden wall, where languorous swains thrum upon mandolinor guitar and sing sentimental serenades to dark-eyedmaidens.

[Pg 7]

All these and more greeted eye and ear in the gay capitalwhen the day of frolic was spent, and night drew herdark mantle about the scene.

I wondered at myself for not having long since weariedof the racket, and taken my last look—some unusualnervous tension appeared to have possession of me, andI could not shake it off; looking back, with the knowledgegained by experience, I am fain to believe it musthave been a mysterious case of “coming events castingtheir shadow before.”

At any rate, I continued to roam aimlessly about thestreets where the crowds gathered most densely, wherethe colored lanterns hung in bewildering profusion, andthe fun waxed furious. I even laughed heartily at someridiculous exhibition on the part of young studentsdressed in wonderful costumes—the whole town hadgiven itself up to mad enjoyment for the time being, andwhy should not I forget?

To-morrow would be time enough to remember.

Such an impression did the tinkling music, the merrysongs, the laughter and cries of the crowd make uponme that it would long haunt my memory as one of thefew nights when the miserable past could be utterly forgotten.

And yet I had never been so near the phantom as duringthose hours.

While I looked and allowed myself to drift with theidle crowd, content to be an atom in the swirling torrent,I suddenly set eyes on a face that gave me the first genuinethrill of pleasure known for many a long, wearyday. My languor was gone, as one might cast aside auseless mantle, and eagerly I began to buffet and pusha passage through the crowd in the direction of the manwho clung to the equestrian statue of the Liberator andsurveyed the wonderful scene with marked interest.

[Pg 8]

More than one black scowl followed my rather rudepassage; perhaps, in my eagerness to advance I was notas polite as these good people would like; and they hadno especial love for a Yankee at any time.

All the while I kept my eyes riveted upon the manwho occupied the exalted perch, and finally, panting frommy exertions, I was in a position to pull at his coat.

He looked down curiously.

“Hello!”

There was nothing of recognition in the exclamation—itwas rather in the shape of an interrogative, such asmight be expected from a man whose attention has beenso unceremoniously attracted.

“Robbins—old fellow—awful glad to see you.”

Again he said, “Hello!” but this time with just-awakenedinterest, bending his head to peer down at me, andfinally dropping to the ground, where he could look intomy face.

As he suddenly recognized me he gave a shout thatsprang straight from the heart, and immediately seizedupon my extended hand, squeezing it until I was almostfain to wince under the pressure.

“Morgan Kenneth, and alive! This is the land of enchantment,sure enough. I can scarce believe my eyes.You, that I believed had found a grave under the wildwaves in that hurricane at Samoa! God bless you, myboy! I’m delighted to see you again. If it had been myown brother I don’t believe I’d have grieved more. Andyou’re really alive?”

I tried to convince him, as well as I was able, by begginghim to have a little mercy on my poor digits, so helinked arms with me, in order, as I believed, to hold meclose to him, for Mate Robbins, like all sailors, had agrain of superstition in his composition, and secretlyfeared, as he afterward confessed, that I might vanish[Pg 9]from his presence if he failed to keep a tight hold uponme.

We stood there and talked, utterly unmindful of thesurging, noisy crowd, wholly given over to the pursuit ofpleasure.

When last I saw Milo Robbins, he was clinging to thewreck of the good ship Pathfinder, going to pieces uponthe Samoan shore, with the hurricane howling like a packof fiends from Tophet. Men of war were wrecked inthat awful tempest, and scores of valiant bluejacketsfound a grave beneath the waves, or were later cast uponthe shore.

I remember as though it were but yesterday how oneBritish war vessel managed to get up steam and crawlslowly out to sea and safety, and how the brave Yankeebluejackets on the other doomed warships, being draggedmercilessly to their awful fate, gave the fortunate Englishvessel a roaring cheer as she went by—it was a specimenof pluck such as might proceed from no other people.

How I escaped the threatening doom would make astory in itself, and has no place here. I recovered mysenses in the hut of a Samoan chief, where I had lainsome days, and it was two weeks ere I felt able to goabroad.

Meanwhile Robbins had sailed away on a ship thatchanced to be short-handed, and during the years thathad elapsed we had believed each other dead.

It seemed a strange and very inappropriate place to exchangesuch confidences, bringing to mind, as they did,the terrible scenes of storm and disaster; but for the timeI utterly ignored the music and laughter, and was onceagain clinging to that frail bit of wreck, the sport andplaything of the crashing waves, while around me greatwarships were breaking to pieces on that cruel shore.

How my heart warmed toward this big manly fellow.[Pg 10]Secretly I swore in my soul he should not get away fromme again, since his coming had brought the first glimpseof sunshine I had known for many a long day.

I noticed that the sturdy mate of the ill-fated Pathfindereyed me curiously from time to time, nor couldI wonder at it.

Time had made many changes in me since last we met,and I had much to tell him when the opportunity offered,that would almost shake his credulity, so like Aladdin’stale or the story of Fortunatus would it appear.

Robbins still followed the sea, and his arrival at Bolivaron the night of the “festa” was in the nature of an accident—alucky one I deemed it, since it brought me onceagain in contact with a valiant, honest spirit I had alwaysgreatly admired in the past.

The romance that once infested the ocean is not yetwholly dead; some miserable Lascars in his crew had conspiredtogether, secretly overwhelmed the faithful sailors,and made prisoners of them, put the mate—the captainwas killed in the mêlée adrift in a jollyboat and sailedaway to perdition, for the vessel was never heard ofagain.

Robbins’ luck still pursued him, for he was picked upsome days later by an English tramp steamer bound forthe gulf ports in search of a cargo of bananas and cocoanuts.So he landed in Bolivar without a picayune inhis pocket beyond the few dollars loaned him by the Englishcaptain of the tramp. I could have shouted when Iheard this; he belonged to me, this valorous son of Neptune,and I was pleased to believe my fortune had, indeed,taken a turn for the better; the sea that hadsnatched him away at Samoa now restored him to me atBolivar.

Time surely brings its compensations; but there are[Pg 11]some things that can never be remedied on earth—atleast, I believed so then.

I could picture his honest joy when, later on, I foundtime to relate my marvelous story of the great spoils thathad fallen into my hands, which had brought me happinessfor a time and then the blackest misery known onearth—that of being deserted.

How his eyes would shine when I pointed out the trimlittle steam yacht in the bay and told him that was to behis charge for all time to come.

The thought was so full of pleasure that I yearned fordaylight in order to overwhelm him with this surprise;faculties awoke to life that had lain dormant very, verylong, and I was surprised to find that I could actuallyderive pleasure from anticipation.

It must have been all of two hours we stood there bythe statue, with the rollicking citizens holding high carnivalaround us, as though determined to outdo all previousexperiences. Our talk was wholly of the past, forI meant to keep my good news until I could point out thegay little craft from my window in the hotel and askRobbins how he would like to cruise around the universein her as master, knocking at the door of every celebratedseaport as we went along and drowning dull care in thelife of luxurious ease to be found only on board such atrim vessel.

It was hard to restrain myself, but I took a singularpleasure in thinking what a treat I had in store for themorning.

So when Robbins spoke of looking for a new berthon the following day I begged him to leave it with me,as I thought I knew of an opening, and though he musthave been more or less mystified by my chuckles andhints, he readily agreed to do so.

“Do they keep this up all night?” he asked, finally, as[Pg 12]a fresh outburst occurred and pandemonium reigned forthe time being.

“I really don’t know, but it looks that way. Have youseen enough of the nonsense? If so, let’s adjourn to myhotel, where we may find a little quiet and get some sleep.I have more to tell you in the morning—something youmight not believe in the midst of all the riot and romance.”

“Wait, shipmate. There’s a little native girl over yonderwho’s been gazing at us this ten minutes past. Ithink she wants to say something and is afraid.”

As he spoke he smiled in his benign way; rough sailorthat he was, Mate Robbins certainly had a face that wonconfidence, and when he thus allowed his bronzed featuresto relax, his expression was so inviting that the childhesitated no longer, but darted forward.

Of course, I supposed she was only a beggar, bettergarbed than the general run of them in Bolivar, and soconfident did I feel with regard to this thing that I putmy hand instinctively into the pocket where I was accustomedto keeping copper coins, to be used on suchoccasions.

There I paused, for the child, looking up in Robbins’still smiling face, said quickly:

“You Amer-i-cano, señor?”

Robbins nodded. He was not the man to deny hiscountry, no matter what trouble might be in ambush.

“You read Amer-i-cano?” asked the waif, still moreimpressively, her bright, black eyes all the while fixed onhis own.

“Passably well,” with a double nod.

“It is for you, then,” she said, suddenly thrusting apaper into his hands, and uttering more words in Spanish,among which I detected thanks to her patron saint[Pg 13]that she had found such a thing as an American in thehot old town of Bolivar.

CHAPTER II.

PERHAPS A FOOL’S ERRAND.

Curiosity may have had something to do with my leaningover Robbins’ shoulder as he unfolded the paper. I,too, was an American, and had as much right as he toenter into the spirit of the game; besides, if it provedto be a begging epistle, cunningly contrived, as I suspectedwas the case, I was better able to stand the racket thanpoor Robbins, just rescued from the sea.

When he had straightened out the paper and held itso that the light from neighboring lamps fell upon its face,I was surprised at two things—the writing was plainEnglish, and it was in a decidedly feminine hand. Myeyes read the heading: “To any American in Bolivar,”and somehow it seemed to strike me as an appeal quite outof the ordinary.

Further down I found this idea strengthened and in amanner calculated to touch whatever of manliness theremight be in a fellow.

Here, then, is what I read. I write it verbatim, for Ihave preserved the original as a precious link in the wonderfulchain of events that had so much to do with mywhole existence, that bound me to the past with its keenpleasure and pain, and connected me with a future:

“I am an American lady in trouble, kept a prisoneragainst my will by those who conspire to rob me of myliberty and my fortune. I charge you, in the name ofhigh Heaven, you into whose hands this note may chance[Pg 14]to fall, to either take this child to the house of the AmericanConsul, and let her tell him where I am, or else endeavorto save me at once. If money is any object, I willpay ten thousand dollars to be placed on board any Englishor American steamer. I dare not sign my name, butyou can trust the child, who is as true as steel. MayGod deal with you as you listen to the appeal of

“One in Distress.”

That was a remarkable document, surely.

Robbins looked around at me when he had finished, andI could see that not a single doubt occurred to him.

On my part, more suspicious, I had even wonderedwhat sort of a mantrap might be back of this note, for thepossession of wealth makes a man more cautious thanwhen he was a penniless voyager on life’s ocean.

Robbins whistled his astonishment.

“Did you ever know such a thing?” he demanded ofme.

“Yes; on the stage, an old story. Sometimes the poorfool escaped, but as often he was sandbagged androbbed.”

“You don’t believe it, then?”

“Oh, I won’t say that I’m willing to go as far as anyman to test it,” carelessly.

“That’s more like your old self, Morgan, my boy,” hesaid, heartily; and I wondered whether he would continueto address me in that delightful old familiar way whenhe learned what a mighty nabob I had become since thehurricane that separated us at Samoa.

I looked at the girl.

She was still watching his face with an eagerness thatbaffled description.

There could be no doubt that she was wholly devotedto the cause of the author of that wonderful appeal,whether trickery lay back of it or not.

[Pg 15]

“Come, you know where the consul lives—we’ll takethe child to him,” he cried, eager to dip into the adventure.

“Softly there; the thing’s impossible,” I said.

“Why do you say that?”

“It happens the consul is away on a junketing trip. Iwas invited, but lacked the nerve to try the awful conveyancesto the interior of this healthy young republic.”

Robbins was never cast down; no matter when themasts went by the board, and the gigantic billows swepteverything movable from the deck, his cheery voice waswont to bellow out words of hope, and with him therewas always another chance.

“Well, then, it devolves on us, sure enough,” was whathe said, lightly.

“You seem to count me in,” I said, with a smile.

“Because I know you too well to believe you could everrefuse to respond to such an appeal for help. Am Iright, Morgan?”

“I guess you are—at least I’m quite fool enough to riska broken head in such a mad adventure. There’s somethingin the air that urges one on; this is the land ofromance and strange happenings, and I’m in a humorfor anything to-night. Oh, yes, if you intend going withthe girl, I’m at your side, though I rather imagine wemay have a brawl of it before we finish the game.”

“Well, what of it? We are two, and in a good causeable to hold our own against a legion of these miserableGreasers. But—if you feel doubtful about it, Morgan, Ihope what I’ve said won’t move you to take up armsagainst your good judgment. If it’s a fool’s errand, betterthat only one head be broken.”

“Nonsense. Don’t you understand that I’m in a humorto do anything to-night—that I even welcome this adventureas something calculated to break the horrid monotony[Pg 16]of my existence? Besides, something draws me on,and I don’t believe I could hold back now, no matter if Iwere sure of hard knocks.”

He looked relieved.

“Well, that ought to settle it. But see here, didn’t yousay you talked Spanish?”

I confessed that I could manage to fairly hold up myend of a conversation, provided the other party weresomething of a mind reader.

“Suppose you question her, then?”

That appeared to be a bright thought, and I proceededto carry it out; but my success was hardly flattering,since the child either would not or could not understandmy fearfully constructed sentences, and made answeralways in about the same vein, her stock of English beingas limited as was my supply of Spanish.

“You come—good lady—she cry mucho—me love lady—showAmer-i-cano casa—bueno—you come—me glad.”

At length I desisted.

“We must take our chances, Robbins. The girl is hereto lead us. Shall we make a start?” I asked, for sinceI was in the game, the sooner I saw what I had to facethe better.

“Immediately. You won’t reconsider, Morgan?” hesaid; perhaps a little lingering doubt assailing him.

“Reconsider! No, indeed! Just remember this is myfuneral as well as yours. So trot along, my hearty, andkeep one eye out for breakers ahead.”

Robbins laughed at my warning, said something in hiskindly voice to the dark-faced little peon girl, who at oncetook hold of his big fist and walked at his side.

So we threaded the crowded, noisy thoroughfares ofBolivar, like knights of old, in quest of adventure; indeed,it struck me there was something very Quixotic in ourastonishing mission, but Robbins seemed to be so deeply[Pg 17]in earnest, I dismissed all idea of laughing at the matter,and resolved to see it through, no matter where the capriceof fortune might drift me.

Once I allowed my hand to rest lightly on the faithfullittle revolver I made it a point to always carry, thoughbefore this treasure trove had fallen to my share I hadscorned to go armed save with nature’s weapons. Reassuredby its presence, I transferred it to a side pocket ofmy blouse, and then felt better able to face a suddenemergency.

Everywhere the scene was pretty nearly the same;houses were illuminated, and crowds jostled us on thenarrow pave; but we were in no hurry, and avoided thecrush as much as possible.

One thing pleased me—we were not as yet headed forthe meaner portion of the capital, but rather sought thebetter part, where the mansions of the wealthy lay. So myfaith began to take root, and I even dared to mentallypicture the poor American lady so far from her nativeland, who had evidently fallen into some trap, perhapsbetrayed by those she trusted.

In and out we wound our way, attracting as little attentionas possible, and finally the small guide drew upin front of a large building, the like of which was not tobe found in all Bolivar.

“What! not this casa?” I exclaimed, aghast.

“Si, Señor Amer-i-cano, this casa,” she said with aserious nod.

I think I muttered something under my breath, somethingthat implied disgust, for I knew that remarkablebuilding was the residence of the august alcalde, the highand mighty mayor of Bolivar.

[Pg 18]

CHAPTER III.

MAN PROPOSES—FATE DISPOSES.

Robbins saw there was something wrong with me, anddemanded to know the cause. Strange to say, when Ihad given him the information, he did not seem to thinkit a very serious matter, at least declared he could not seehow it was to cut any particular figure in our affair.

“If anything it favors us,” he said, stoutly.

Perhaps my miserable suspicions made me uncommonlydull of comprehension, for I considered that the marinerhad certainly taken a wrong view of the situation, andbegged him to explain why he felt so positive.

“You say this is the palace of the big mogul of theplace, the alcalde?” he asked.

“Undoubtedly—the girl will say as much. See, shenods her head in the affirmative when you mention thename.”

“All right, his worship is going to have visitors to-night,then.”

“Umph! He already has them, if what we see andhear is any indication,” for the big casa was illuminated,and the sounds of music, together with the murmur ofmany voices, told of a social gathering.

“Then he’s about to have a couple not down on thelist.”

“You haven’t changed your mind?”

“Well, I guess not, except to grow more positive. Thisdoesn’t bear the earmarks of a trap; if the girl had ledus to some low den or rookery, we might expect such athing; but here it’s different. The house of the mayor.Then you can wager it was a lady wrote that, and she’sin trouble.”

[Pg 19]

I surrendered.

His reasoning was so clear, his manner so confiding,that he carried me with him.

“No doubt you’re right—I withdraw all my objections,and stand ready to back you in anything, even to facingthe alcalde before his guests and demanding our faircountrywoman.”

“How d’ye know she’s fair?”

“Know? Oh, I guessed it; they always are on thestage, you know. Besides,” clutching at a straw, “thegirl said something about the beautiful lady.”

“Well, I don’t think it’ll come to facing the old foxamong his guests, and taking him by the nose. Thisgirleen has other aims in view, or I’ll eat my hat. Saywhen, and she’ll show us a way in.”

“Vamos,” I said, which, being interpreted, means “letus go,” and the girl, who had been watching us eagerlyduring the brief discussion, at once clutched my hand.Perhaps it had suddenly dawned upon her mind that Iwas a power in the land, or it may be my knowledge of alittle Spanish led her to believe I was head and shouldersto the front in the expedition.

Robbins grunted his satisfaction at this turn of affairs,and I really suspect the fellow had an idea the childfeared lest I might spoil all by backing out and meantto cling fast to me, so that I would come under her influence.

When we began to move around to the rear of thegreat wall that inclosed the gardens of the alcalde, Irealized that Robbins had guessed one thing right, andthat in that quarter there must be some secret doorthrough which we were to enter.

It proved exactly so, and when five minutes had goneby we stood among palms and ferns and tropical shrubsthat grew in rank luxuriance.

[Pg 20]

With colored lanterns hung here and there, the gardenwas a scene of enchantment, and music stealing fromsome concealed orchestra within the house added to thecharm.

Luckily, few persons were abroad, and these the girlmanaged to avoid by following a path that was not oftenused, leading as it did, to the toolhouse, where the gardenerkept the implements of his calling.

By this time I awoke to the fact that this little affairhad all the earmarks of an adventure far above the common,and I even began to forget my cynical distrust of allwho wore petticoats, and felt the honest thrill of satisfactionthat must always accompany any effort to assista woman in distress.

We cautiously entered the house.

Now, not being accustomed to sneaking in at the backway, I experienced a cold chill at the possibility of ourbeing taken for common burglars, with suspicious designsupon the worthy alcalde’s silver. It was not apleasant thought, and the possible consequences loomedup before me with startling distinctness; but, having comethus far, nothing on earth could force me to back out. SoI permitted the girl to draw me along just as she willed,while the big mate came at my heels.

I was quite taken with the amazing dexterity shown bythe little guide in avoiding anything that threatened discovery.Several times voices told of persons approaching,and on such occasions she hustled the two of us intoa convenient room until the danger had passed.

Once we were even jammed into a closet, where wealmost suffocated; but the movement was a brilliant success,for the party went by without a suspicion that twoskulkers stood within arm’s length of them.

I saw they were ladies handsomely dressed and wearingflashing jewels, doubtless the wives of the leading[Pg 21]business men of Bolivar; and the sight of those sparklinggems made me chuckle as I remembered that we wereapparently sustaining the character of rogues, for whoelse would enter a worthy mayor’s house in the secretfashion we had done?

And the thought occurred to me that we were boundto have considerable trouble in leaving the building, eventhough we succeeded in accomplishing our design ofreaching the fair prisoner.

Another startling thought occurred to me—somehow,these brave ideas are apt to leap into existence after onehas gone too far to retreat—what if, after all, this ladywho wrote such a touching appeal for aid should turn outto be some member of the alcalde’s own family circle,with a singular hallucination, sending out these letters bywholesale under fortune hunter’s zeal—in short, crazy?

Were we the only ones victimized?

Then my common sense arose and throttled this basesuspicion; it was an American woman appealing to thechivalry of her countrymen, and I was a fool to believeanything to the contrary. The fact of the house ownerbeing the alcalde did not prevent him from meriting thename of a rascal. I had known governors whose handitched for spoils, and who were not above the commonfollies of life. Well, at any-rate, we would soon know.All seemed to be going smoothly, and presently we wouldbe able to meet the writer of the note face to face.

Various reflections came to me as we skulked along,now creeping up a back flight of stairs, seldom found ina Bolivar house, and anon scouring a dark corridor thatturned and twisted in a manner positively confusing.

Once we came out upon a narrow porch that lookeddown upon the patio or court always found in the dwellingsof well-to-do Spanish-Americans, and fashioned after[Pg 22]the Moorish type, from which it was copied centuriesago, when those people overran Southern Spain.

Here plashed the fountain amid luxuriant flowers andcosy seats, where I could see a number of couples takingtheir ease. But there was danger of discovery here, andwe did not linger, but once more entered the corridor.

Finally the girl stopped before a door, and I knew wehad reached the climax of our adventure. Presently wewould see our countrywoman, in whose interest Robbinsand myself had entered upon this Quixotic cruise.Really, it was quite exciting and would doubtless arousea languid interest upon future occasions when I smokedmy cigar and pondered upon this night’s work. I turnedto look at my good comrade. The light was not of thebest, but I could see that Robbins was looking as seriousas an owl; this sort of thing appealed to his chivalrousnature; he should have lived in the days of the crusades,and my word for it, he would have won renown as amodel knight, ever ready to flash his sword in beauty’scause.

For Robbins, I was fain to believe, had never as yethad an affair of the heart and was full of old-fashionedideas about womankind that were in vogue during ourgreat grandmothers’ time, but seem woefully out of dateamong the butterflies of society’s swirl to-day.

The girl knew where the key was hung, and I wonderedwhy she had not ere now attempted to lead thebeautiful prisoner from the house to the calle, where indue time she might have reached the protection of theStars and Stripes over the door of our consul’s office.

So she opened the door, and in a whisper bade us enter.Perhaps Robbins was more eager than myself; somehowI stepped aside and allowed him to enter first.

Was it a sense of chivalry? If any romance was togrow out of this escapade of the night, I was just then[Pg 23]quite willing that he should carry off all the honors. Formyself, that sort of thing had, I believed, lost all its attraction,since it is said the burned child dreads the fire,and I had been singed.

As I passed beyond the door the girl cautiously closedand locked it; but suspicion had now ceased to worryme, and I looked upon this simply in the light of prudence.For I had already discovered there was a lady inthe room.

The lamp, shaded with a crimson globe, was burningwith less than full power, but the light was sufficient toshow me that the apartment was handsomely and sumptuouslyfurnished. Robbins was just ahead, and his bigbulk allowed me only that fleeting glimpse of a lady risingin haste from her chair, but even then I seemed to graspthe idea that she was a charming personality.

Ah! Perhaps our mission was not fated to be such afool’s errand, after all.

I was content for the time being to let Robbins playfirst fiddle, ready to back him up should he need assistancein words or deeds. The mate, thrown upon his resources,was bowing, hat in hand.

“Madam, I am an American, and you can trust us,” hemanaged to say, boldly. Then I heard her utter a cryof delight.

“At last—it has come. I shall leave these hatefulscenes, never to return. Oh, Carmecita, blessed child,what do I not owe to you!”

I believe you could have knocked me down with afeather when that voice fell upon my hearing, for itaroused all the memories I had thought buried in the deadpast.

Yet it seemed so preposterous, so incredible, that Icould not trust to my ears alone, but pushed up alongside[Pg 24]of Robbins, where nothing could come between myvision and the lady of the alcalde’s casa.

It was not so singular that I should turn white andstand there as though suddenly stricken dumb, wonderingat the world’s smallness after all, for I found myselflooking upon the face that had haunted me, sleeping orwaking, these two years, which I had roamed the worldover in the endeavor to forget, yet without success, thefair countenance of one whom, in the fondness of myheart, I had once called my wife—my Hildegarde!

CHAPTER IV.

WORSE THAN STRANGERS NOW.

It was a decidedly unpleasant sensation that so nearlyovercame me when I made this remarkable discovery inthe lordly casa of the worthy alcalde.

Surprise and consternation about constituted the whole,for had I not often vowed never again to set eyes on thatfair face, once madly loved, and here a perverse fate hadactually taken me by the neck and forced me into herpresence.

I hated her—yes, I felt certain I did—not so much becauseof the wrong she had done me as for the fact that,strange paradox, I could not cease to love her!

This weakness, how often I had cursed it, and thendreamed that once again my Hildegarde and I were Maying,making love among the flowers, dead to all the world,only to wake up furious with myself because I could notbruise my heart sufficiently to stamp out her false image.

And there I was looking upon the same maddening[Pg 25]beauty that had once made a fool of me. By Heaven!she was prettier than ever and I ground my teeth withrage when I felt my miserable traitor heart throbbing likea triphammer against my ribs.

She knew me, too, despite the fact that I had growna mustache and Vandyke beard since last we parted, andlooked ten years older.

I saw her eyes dilate as though she were unable to believeher senses; what the various emotions that chasedeach other over her pink and white face meant I was unableto decide.

But she must have seen from my cold and haughtymanner that I had not come to sue for her queenly pardon;my wrongs still rankled in my breast, or somethingdid that answered the same purpose, and there was nosign of yielding in my appearance.

And yet, God knows I had difficulty in fighting downthe mad longing to rush forward and seize upon her, tocrush her to my heart as I had once been wont to do, and,casting aside all doubt, and pride, and hateful memories,call her again, “my Hildegarde.”

Her voice aroused me from the half stupor into whichI had been thrown by the very violence of these variouswarring emotions.

“So, it is you?” she said, coldly.

That killed every bud of promise, even as a frostblights those of vegetation, and I was immediately thrownon my guard.

If she could be hateful, there was no good reason whyI might not match her.

“Yes, I believe it is. My friend Robbins induced me tojoin him in this affair. I did not dream of meeting you,though.”

“Perhaps you might not have come if you had seen myname in the note?”

[Pg 26]

The scorn of her words lashed me. How she hatedme, who had once been all the world to her.

“It would have made no difference; a woman in distressneeded help—that should be enough for any onecalling himself a man.”

“I am glad to hear you subscribe to such lofty sentiments;there was a time when you hardly thought thesame.”

“Pardon me, I don’t care to discuss the past. That isburied beyond recall. I have forgotten it.”

I lied when I said that; what man can ever forget whohas lived a year or two in Paradise, even though kickedout finally? But no matter, it served my purpose, for shetook especial pains to show how she hated me, and I wasnot the one to be outdone by a woman.

There was some more play of the emotions upon herface; I saw a hand pressed against her heart, but ofcourse it was only because my cold-blooded words had cuther pride, and she hardly knew just how to answer me.

Then she arose to the occasion, and I could see her blueeyes flash as they had flashed that day we had the nastyquarrel ending in my abandoning the palace I called home.

“You are a brute, Morgan Kenneth! Oh, how I detestyou!” she said, hotly.

I smiled in derision; knowing that she hated me anyway,there was no reason why I should cringe to hear hersay so; and yet, despite that sarcastic smile, deep downin my heart, I quailed under her scorn.

“I beg of you to ignore the past, at least until we arein other quarters than this. You have appealed for assistance.I confess I haven’t an iota of understanding asto how you came here, with whom, or what manner ofdanger you wish to avoid. It does not matter. We havecome, and we are at your service. Where would you goto seek an asylum from your enemies?”

[Pg 27]

I spoke as calmly as might be expected of a man undersuch remarkable conditions.

She had become so nervous that, unable to stand still,she walked up and down with her fingers locking bothhands together.

Heavens! what punishment for a man who had wrestledfor two years to forget this queenly creature, and nowto meet her thus!

Finally she said:

“I hoped to find safety at the home of the consul.”

“But he has gone out of town and will not be backshort of a week; perhaps he may be killed on that wretchedlittle railway.”

“Then an American or English vessel might give mea refuge,” she continued.

“Robbins, is the steamer you came on still in port?”I asked.

“I am sorry to say that it is not. The captain founda letter awaiting him to start for Guayamas without delayand load bananas there.”

“Then there is not an American or British vessel in theharbor?”

“I saw only one—a little steam yacht that flew theStars and Stripes,” he answered, quickly.

I turned to my lady.

“That steam yacht is mine—you can find an asylum onboard and will be taken wherever you wish.”

Then her eyes blazed again—so far as I knew I hadnot said anything uncivil, or calculated to arouse hertemper, and yet she seemed to look upon my propositionin the light of an affront.

She even stamped her little foot in anger.

“Thank you, I prefer remaining here, and enduring allthings, to going aboard that hateful yacht.”

Now what was there about the beautiful boat to incur[Pg 28]her anger, save that it had been my lonely floating homefor a long time, and must in that way be associated withmy hateful personality that it had to come in for a shareof her obloquy?

“Oh, if you object to my presence, I shall remain ashoreand let Robbins take charge of the boat while you areaboard,” I said, quickly.

She gave me a look as of daggers drawn, but I couldnot interpret it, stupid that I was.

“Pray, give yourself no concern about the matter. If Ihad dreamed it would cause you this trouble I would havedied rather than send that note for help. It was all adreadful mistake.”

“Yes, a dreadful mistake,” I murmured.

Again she gave me a quick look, and then resumed hertheatrical air that made her seem so irresistibly charmingthat I found it extremely difficult to keep on hatingher.

“I am sorry to have given you so much trouble, Mr.—a—Robbins,but, after all, I have decided that there aresituations more painful than the one I am now in underthis roof, and that I must change my mind and remainhere.”

CHAPTER V.

WHERE JEALOUSY CAN LURK, LOVE IS NOT DEAD.

Of course they say a woman has a perfect right tochange her mind, and that we lords of creation must submitwith a good grace; but occasions may arise whensuch a face-about seems too exasperating to endure.

Such a sensation overwhelmed me when I heard Hildegarde[Pg 29]positively declare that, much as she desired to escapefrom the old alcalde’s roof, she preferred remainingthere, face to face with some evil that had heretoforefrightened her, to owing her freedom to me.

It was not at all flattering, and cut me like a two-edgeddagger; but, all the same, I was more than ever determinedshe should escape from her prison, even thoughI were compelled to use force in the transaction.

Really, it was a situation that seemed fast bordering onthe ridiculous rather than the tragic.

“A woman convinced against her will is of the sameopinion still,” and who could say that, should we insiston rescuing her, Hildegarde, who could be perverse whenshe wished, might not come back again to the miserableold alcalde’s, just to spite me? But my mind was madeup.

“Really, we can’t allow you to change your intentions.We have come here for a purpose, and don’t mean to giveit up,” I said, as firmly yet as gently as I could.

She looked at me queerly.

“You mean that you intend to rescue me, whether Iwish it or not?” she breathed.

“I mean that I wish you for the time being to forget youever knew me, to forget that you hate me, and only considerthat I am a gentleman desirous of assisting you.When you are safe from this peril, which I can’t for thelife of me understand, then I will quickly sink once moreinto oblivion and trouble you no longer.”

“I—did not know the world was so small,” she said,musingly.

“Nor I. Until I saw you here I thought you in thegay whirl of Paris or at least in New York.”

“And I thought you—but it doesn’t matter; nothingmatters any longer. Do you really mean to say you won’tlet me change my mind?”

[Pg 30]

“Pardon me, not in this case, because I am sure youdon’t mean it, and only do so through pique.”

“Oh, this is very romantic,” she laughed in a sarcasticway; “a pretty woman rescued even against her will.How finely it would read.”

“I am done with romance, madam.”

“Indeed? That is news to me. But what if I chooseto call out and bring the alcalde and his people to preventyour carrying me off?”

She only said it to tantalize me—the very idea of sucha thing was monstrous; but it gave me an opportunityfor some little heroics.

“Then it would be a bad thing for our friend the alcaldeand his friends,” I returned.

“Would you fight—you?” she cried, her eyes sparklingwith new animation, as though the situation appealed toher irresistibly.

“It was agreed between Robbins and myself that wewould never be taken alive. Perhaps your hatred of mewould be satisfied and the past fully avenged if you sawme lying here at your feet covered with wounds and dying,”I said, solemnly, for a touch of the old witcherywas upon me—the sheen of her golden hair, the glow ofher bonnie blue eyes, the very scent of her garments,united to create a riot in my treacherous heart that I onlysubdued with an iron grip.

She shivered at my foreboding words and I fanciedturned pale.

Then she smiled to conceal her perturbation.

When I look back upon this scene I feel sad to thinkwhat cheap theatrical business I bordered upon when Iso graphically pictured my forlorn fate; but to the bestof my belief I spoke just what I felt as I stood there andfound my grand resolutions to hate and scorn trembling[Pg 31]in the balance in the presence of the lady who was now,alas! no longer—my Hildegarde.

“Oh, your argument overwhelms me. It would be toosad a fate for one to whom the gods have given the faceand figure of an Apollo together with the fortune of aCrœsus. I see I must surrender against my will.”

In her words and manner there was an air of scorn,which I could not but feel.

What would I give to prove my manhood in the eyesof this woman, who persisted in believing me a weakling,when God knows that if any such spirit animated me inthe old days, it had been completely annihilated duringmy two years of lonely wanderings.

Nevertheless, I was really delighted to hear her givein to my authority for once; perhaps had I been moresteadfast in the past—— But what was the use oflamenting what was beyond recall?

“Then we are to be permitted the pleasure of savingyou from this strange peril that hangs over you?” Iasked, trying to appear quite calm.

“I will leave this house with you,” she replied.

It would have pleased me better had she shown fullerconfidence in my willingness and ability to protect her,but the old spirit appeared to be still strong within herheart, the long-harbored doubt concerning my strength ofpurpose.

With that I had to be content.

It would be folly for me to deny that I had a strangetremor in the region of my heart when I took an outergarment from her hands and folded it about her.

She looked up in one of her old coquettish ways thatstirred the sluggish depths in my heart, and then coldlythanked me as she might her maid.

I knew too well how useless it would be for me to makeglowing promises; another might hear me with satisfaction,[Pg 32]but this woman believed she knew me too well todream there was the least drop of heroic blood in myveins.

Well, my appearance on the scene in answer to her appealfor help must have been the first blow at this barrier.

Please Heaven, there might yet be others.

Yes, I longed for an opportunity to show, by silentdeeds, what she would never believe in words.

After such a wonderful meeting between estrangedsouls, anything was possible, and who could say that Imight not yet be given the chance for which I prayed?

You may be sure that Robbins had stood there listeningto what passed, and looking the next thing to beingparalyzed.

He found it hard to understand what a wild freak offortune had been played, and that this charming womanof the alcalde’s mansion had once been very near anddear to me.

Still, the good mariner was far from being a fool, andonce his benumbed faculties got into working order, hereasoned the thing out pretty well, though still aghast atthe strange chance that drew us together in old Bolivar.

Having entertained some vague hope that the quest oflittle Carmencita might not be in vain, she had arrangedthings for a hasty departure. All she seemed desirousof taking with her was contained in a very small handbag.

I saw that she was dressed for walking and could notbut admire her good taste. But, then, she had alwaysbeen sensible in all things save one, and that, alas! themost vital, concerning her estimation of her husband’squalities as a man.

As I watched her gather up a few trinkets and put themin the bag, I suddenly received a tremendous shock.

My eyes, in glancing toward the quaint dresser, had[Pg 33]fallen upon a diminutive silver frame that inclosed thephotograph of a man’s head.

Perhaps it is a very ordinary occurrence for a lady tothus decorate her dressing table, but, all the same, it gaveme a dreadful shock.

Involuntarily I clinched my teeth and took a step forward,with flashing eyes; but just then she snatched upthe miserable silver thing and thrust it into the handbag,at the same time looking over her shoulder at me withsuddenly flaming cheeks.

I said nothing, but a demon had sprung up in my heart.Whose picture was this which she was so eager to keepwhere she could look upon it the last thing before retiringand the first thing upon arising?

Well, what did it matter to me? What reason had I tobe jealous—I who had fled from the sight of her aftersettling half of my fortune on her, and who had writtenthat henceforth, since I was unable to make her happy,we would be as dead to each other?

I was a fool to care.

Of course I summoned those forces which I had beenso carefully marshaling these two years back, and whippedmy traitor heart into line, but it was a close shave, for Iwould have given much for a sight of that picture, inorder to discover what my successor looked like.

“I am ready,” she said, quietly.

The color had left her cheeks as suddenly as it flamedthere, and I could easily see she was annoyed at something—perhapsbecause I dared presume to be impertinentlycurious regarding her private affairs.

Well, I deserved it all, for had I not given her to understandshe could never more be other than a stranger tome?

What a fool I had been.

Perhaps there might have been some way in which I[Pg 34]could have convinced her of my worthiness without desertion;but what wonders we might perform if our foresightonly equaled the result of our bitter experience.

I turned to Robbins, who, feeling that after all he wasto be recognized in the adventure, assumed an air of importance,though he could hardly keep his eyes fromHildegarde’s face until she drew the hood of her cloakso as to almost conceal its rounded contour.

“After you, old friend. I think you’re in a clearerstate of mind than myself, and better able to lead. Wemust trust to the child.”

“You can trust our lives with her,” came from underthe hood.

I nerved myself for the ordeal.

“Will you let me assist you?” I said to Hildegarde.

“Thank you, I do not need any help,” she replied.

Well, I had done my duty as a gentleman, and shecould not complain that I was a boor.

“At least allow me to carry the bag.”

She hesitated, I know not why, and then gave it over.

I recognized it as one I had picked up in London whenwe were doing the sights of Europe; it had had my nameon a silver plate. Almost unconsciously I raised it to seeif that tag remained intact—yes, there were the distinctletters, “Morgan Kenneth, Esq.”

She must have forgotten to have it taken off, for ofcourse with the man, she hated the name, and had undoubtedlyresumed her maiden one after procuring herdivorce, to which she was entitled by my desertion.

How strange it was to be gripping that little bag again;how different the conditions now from the time when Ipurchased it; then my cup of bliss seemed full and runningover, with a charming wife and a grand fortune allin one year; now it was filled, but, alas! with gall and[Pg 35]wormwood, my hopes lying cold in ashes, my feeling towardthe world one of suspicion and disgust.

There was at least a singular satisfaction in the factthat while we fled to the uttermost parts of the earth toavoid each other fate had brought us face to face in thisold city that I had never heard of two months before.

What did it all mean?

I dared not allow myself to hope there could be thefaintest chance of a reconciliation. She hated me—hadshe not just said so?—even as I now loathed myself forevergiving up such a charming being.

Perhaps it was intended that our dead romance was tobe finally buried with a fanfare of trumpets and sometragedy; perhaps ere the end came she was to discoverhow terribly she had misjudged me in the past, when shewas wont to taunt me upon my lack of heroic qualities.

Robbins had some few words with the girl, and thenCarmencita, giving one earnest look at the lady whom sheadored, led the way.

After Robbins came Hildegarde, while I, like a dutifulfollower, brought up the rear, grasping in my hand thelittle bag that held her trinkets, her jewelry, and the picturewhich she had seriously objected to my seeing—thepicture of a man who had perhaps crept into the heart Ihad basely deserted, and was now enshrined there as herhero, a position I had never been able to obtain in thosedays of old when, as I have said, she deigned to allow meto call her “my Hildegarde.”

[Pg 36]

CHAPTER VI.

A BAD BLUNDER.

Really, the governor of the city and his guests werebent on having a merry time, if the noise they made couldbe taken as an evidence. I hoped they might be so fullyoccupied in their feasting as to allow us a clear field toescape from the house.

The stupendous surprise had given me much to thinkabout, and my mind was in a pretty whirl as I walkedhumbly behind the hooded and cloaked “fellow-countrywomanin distress,” whose bag, once my bag, I carried.

Suppose we should run across some of the servants,who, grasping the situation, would give the alarm—Icould easily imagine the excitement that must speedilyfollow. Could we reach the garden in safety? Well,Robbins was a man of remarkable resolution, and I believedthere was another in a savage enough frame ofmind to back him up should the occasion arise, so that wecould make it extremely interesting for the alcalde.

Carmencita did her part well.

She seemed to be constantly alert for signs of danger.But we were making progress all the while, and the gardendrew nearer; once under the shelter of that tropicalgrowth, we might believe ourselves in a fair way towardsafety.

When we reached the calle beyond the walls, whatthen? I felt almost certain Hildegarde would utterly refuseto accept a refuge on board my yacht, so great hadbeen the antipathy she had shown at mention of such athing, as though it might be freighted with horrors anddissipated roués, instead of being the sedate bachelorquarters of a very lonely fellow who endeavored to forget[Pg 37]that he had once been happy, by surrounding himselfwith books and curios from many lands; perhaps a poornest in which to install a lady, but with a pure atmosphere,please Heaven.

Then I reflected that it was time enough to cross abridge when we came to it—we were not yet out of thehouse and she might change her mind with regard to theyacht; indeed, out of curiosity, be as eager to go onboard as she had at first seemed averse to it.

Now we were on the lower floor, and as yet all seemedwell.

Five minutes, perhaps less, would tell the story.

It was a serious thing, this braving the anger of thealcalde, who as judge and mayor might yet have thechance to condemn us to the execrable miseries of theBlack Hole.

Would she consider that I had undertaken any risk inthe endeavor to serve a woman in trouble?—would shedream that had I known the identity of the one who sentout that appeal, memories of the past might have spurredme on to prove that her one-time estimate of my naturewas false?

What a fool I was to bother myself whether she caredor not.

It was too late—much too late to matter now.

Then came a sudden hitch—things did not continue tomove along as smoothly.

Some one came upon us—I heard a voice questioninglittle Carmencita, and then roundly abusing her, thoughmuch that was said was Greek to my ears, I being butan indifferent Spanish scholar.

Then Robbins took a hand in the matter, fearing thatthe child would be struck, such was the anger in whichthe man addressed her.

I saw her try to hold the mate back, as she uttered a[Pg 38]terrified little cry, but the big fellow’s indignation was tookeen, and with Carmencita clinging to his coat he rushedat the bully.

The passage was but meagerly lighted, but I couldsee him let fly with all the vigor of his indignant soul.

You have probably many a time watched a noble ten-pin,the last of the half score, go floundering into the ditchunder the assault of a well delivered ball—so this fellowof generous proportions was bowled over when Robbinsstruck home.

I would that it had been my arm that sent him sprawling,for Hildegarde gave Robbins such a look of undisguisedadmiration as to arouse my deepest envy.

Perhaps my turn would come next.

The bully, who would have laid a hand on the child,scrambled to his feet.

He made off in so hasty a manner that it struck me asludicrous, nor did it occur to us that we should have preventedhis flight until it was too late.

That was a bad blunder, which was apt to cost us dear.

He no sooner found himself clear of us than he beganto whoop it up at a lively rate, calling “Murder! thieves!fire!” in a manner that was bound to attract attention,for though the music was on, the boom of his great voiceechoed far above all else.

“That was well done, sir,” said Hildegarde, “but wemust surely run for it now, for you have knocked downthe alcalde himself!”

That was certainly a wretched piece of luck all around,but having done so stupendous a wrong we were doltsnot to have tied him neck and crop and thrust him intosome corner to cool his heels while we made off.

Robbins did not seem to care an iota; I believe he wouldjust as soon have given the same medicine to the president[Pg 39]of the republic, should an occasion arise that calledfor heroic treatment of this character.

Carmencita no longer tugged at his coat to hold himback—indeed, it was just the opposite; for, horrifiedat what he had done to the doughty mayor, who in heryoung eyes was a very august individual, to be greatlyfeared, she was bent on urging him to make all haste toleave the hacienda.

All of us were of one mind—we did not seem to havethe remotest desire to linger there; any natural curiositywe might be supposed to feel concerning what our worthyalcalde might do on his return, backed by a troop ofguests, was wholly swallowed up by the thought of reachingthe garden, and eventually the calle.

In our forward movement we had the bad fortune torun upon certain of the servants engaged in carryingvarious hot foods to the dining chamber where the guestswere soon expected to assemble.

Here Robbins—confound his luck!—was right in theswim again, while I, being only a rear guard, as it were,had to jog along carrying that miserable bag, and cheatedout of my due.

He seemed to have his hand in, and assailed thoseterrified peons hip and thigh with a lusty vigor thatwould have done credit to any knight-errant or swashbuckler.

They did some remarkable acrobatic feats under theinfluence he brought to bear, and it was a miracle thatRobbins escaped the deluge of flying viands that strewedthe passage after the encounter.

But our end was attained, we had a free and unobstructedway to the exit, and the gardens lay beyond.

The music had abruptly stopped; I could easily imaginehow the demoralized alcalde had hurled the players overeach other in his fierce desire to make himself heard.

[Pg 40]

His booming voice sounded like a broadside from theold frigate Constitution, and what he said brought outa tremendous ovation from the male part of his hearers.

We were not lingering just then to discover what hisidea of the whole matter might be—in fact, we had notthe slightest curiosity in that direction, and but one aim inlife—to reach a harbor of refuge.

I was well pleased to see the rear door again—here wehad gained entrance to the grand casa, and it was necessarythat it serve us again as an exit.

Doubtless, already the numerous visitors of the noblehidalgo were scouring every room and corridor of thegreat pile of masonry, eager to discover the bold rascalswho had dared set upon his excellency and use him asthough he were an ox in the shambles.

Let them hunt—the garden lay before us, and after thatthe street and safety.

Just as my foot crossed the threshold there arose astrange sound; it was the wild clang of a bell, harsh anddiscordant, and there seemed to be concentrated alarmand terror in its brazen throat, just as the peal of the firebell at dead of night awakens the liveliest anticipationsof dread.

To me it seemed to go with the rest—I was so thoroughlyaroused that a thousand bells could not have addedanother thrill; but Carmencita uttered a wail of anguishas she cried aloud half in Spanish:

“It is the alarm bell! Oh, dear lady, the holy motherprotect us now—they will have fastened the door in thewall by the time we reach it. We are lost!—he will killus all!”

[Pg 41]

CHAPTER VII.

THE LOST KEY.

What Carmencita wailed may have struck dumb terrorto the heart of her mistress, but for my part I saw as yetno reason to despair. The association with such a manas Robbins was in itself quite enough to inspire confidence;and besides, there were other good reasons why Ishould scorn to show the white feather.

We had already started to traverse the gardens, whilethat infernal alarm bell kept up its fearful clatter, loudenough to awaken the dead.

“Don’t be anxious, we will surely find a way out, dooror no door,” I managed to say, close to the hooded head.

Hildegarde turned as if to look at me, but made noattempt at replying, for with such a din it must have beenquite useless.

Robbins permitted himself to be guided by the girl, forthough he may have felt sure as to the route, it was bestto so act that a blunder was out of the question.

We were lucky enough not to run across any gardener,and the idea flashed into my mind that this fellowmight be busily engaged fastening the door in the wall.

Hildegarde bore herself well, I am bound to admit—manywomen must have been dreadfully shocked by theclamorous racket which we had aroused, and borderedclose upon hysterics; but she was able to contain herself,though I had no doubt that she must be trembling violently.

Somehow a wave of great pity seemed to fill my heart,for it was truly a most abominable situation for any ladyas gently bred as I knew her to have been, carefully sheltered[Pg 42]from all scenes of violence, and with the blood ofpeace-loving Quakers running in her veins.

Then the wall loomed up ahead.

How dreadfully lofty it seemed—I had paid little attentionto its height before, but now it appalled me, forthere seemed a chance that should the door be closed toour exit we must clamber over the wall in some way ifwe would escape.

There was a moving figure that caught my attention—comingtoward us on the run, and as he rushed into theglow of a lantern that hung from a bush loaded withflowers, I saw that it was the gardener.

He held something in his hand which I immediately determinedwas the key to the door, the panacea for all ourtroubles.

Apparently he caught sight of us at about the sametime, for his forward motion ceased, and it looked verymuch as though he were about to begin a retrograde one.

Here was my chance.

Robbins might have run at him, but such a move musthave only added the wings of fear to the gardener’sflight.

I had a better plan, a swifter messenger, for that keywas decidedly essential to our comfort, and even heroicmeasures might be pardoned in the effort to secure thetalisman that would prove our “open sesame.”

Accordingly, as quick as a flash I rushed to the fore,giving Robbins no time to act, and as I jumped I drewfrom its place of concealment the reliable little firearmwhich I had learned through excessive target practice touse almost as well as an expert.

“Stand, or you are a dead man!”

That was what I shouted in Spanish—at least I triedto say it, though assured later on by little Carmencitathat what I so fiercely ejaculated was more to the effect[Pg 43]that I took the fellow for a ghost come back from thedead, and was ordering him to return to the kingdom ofthe departed shades.

Never mind; my fierce demeanor should surely haveconvinced him that he was in dire peril unless he surrendered.

The fool did not have sense enough to see he had notthe ghost of a chance to escape—or perhaps he took it forgranted that I was as abominable a pistol shot as hiscountrymen.

When I saw that he meant to disregard my stern command,and that there was immediate danger of both manand key slipping through our fingers, I realized that thetime had come for action rather than words.

Now it was not in my heart to kill the poor devil—Ihad never sent a human being into the other world as yet,though coming uncommonly near it while attacked byItalian brigands on one occasion, and later on when someheathen Chinese thought me a soft mark on the outskirtsof old Canton.

Besides, this fellow was in the alcalde’s pay, and onlydid his duty in the premises.

To wing him then was the height of my ambition asI threw my little firearm forward in a fashion in vogueamong all good pistol shots.

Then came the spiteful little crack, hardly louder thanthe snapping of one’s finger, for modern powder is nextto noiseless in its detonation.

“He’s down!” exclaimed Robbins, setting his six footframe in motion.

I remained with our charge and advanced more quietly.

“Oh, I hope you have not killed him! It was too badto shoot!” said Hildegarde.

I felt chagrined—what I did never appeared worthyof praise in her eyes, yet she could applaud that tall athlete,[Pg 44]Robbins, when he knocked down a man a foot underhis height.

“No danger—I aimed to disable; our lives may dependon getting that key, else I wouldn’t have shot the poordevil,” I said, coldly.

All the same I knew I was in for rough usage in casewe were caught, for I had drawn the blood of the alcalde’sservant, and while in these queer little republics money isa plaster that can cure almost any political ill, still it mustneeds be a liberal dose that could soothe the ruffled feelingsof the enraged mayor after what we had done onthis night of nights.

But we were not captured yet—far from it.

Why, the game was young, and there must needs bemany a twist and turn before one could call the cards.

Meanwhile we reached the spot where the wretchedgardener lay.

He only had a small leaden pellet in his leg, but theshock had quite overwhelmed him, being unused to warfare,and no doubt he believed himself on the road to aspeedy dissolution.

At any rate he bawled lustily in terror one instant, andthen called upon his patron saint to ferry him over theStyx the next, mixing up his appeals in a manner trulylaughable, until Robbins made a threatening gesture whichhushed his vociferation.

“The key!” I shouted, for if anything the noise hadswelled to still greater volume, and one must raise hisvoice to be heard.

“Yes—I am looking for it—I would swear he had it inhis hand,” cried the mate, already down on his hands andknees.

“We must find it—everything depends on it.”

“He must have thrown it when he fell.”

[Pg 45]

It was a bright suggestion, for just beyond the fellowwas a dense cluster of bushes.

If we had more light possibly a quick search woulddiscover the missing key.

And this caused me to remember the lantern that wassuspended from a twig near by.

I turned to obtain possession of it only to find that thesame thought had occurred to another, for Hildegarde alreadyhad it in her hand and was tripping toward me.

As I took the lantern from her I could not help fromthrowing a quick glance under the hood of her face—itwas very white and looked, yes, a little pinched with excitementand fright.

“Courage,” I said, involuntarily, just as I might haveaddressed a strange lady thus thrown upon our protection.

Then I sprang to where Robbins, still on his hands andknees, was groping about among the grass and bushes,bent on finding that elusive key.

It seemed to take a fiendish delight in mocking oursearch, and as the seconds crept by I began to tremblewith apprehension lest, after all, we might be corneredlike rats, and eventually fall into the hands of our enemies,or be cut down.

A cry from Hildegarde made me spring erect and turnlike a tiger—I could hardly tell why I had such a thrill,save that it was caused by the thought that ruffianly handsmight have been laid upon her.

She stood with only little Carmencita at her side, andboth were pointing.

“See! the gardener—he escapes!” was what I madeout.

Then I saw a moving object—it was the fellow I hadshot in the leg, for having discovered that he was not yetquite dead, and no longer menaced by the frowning Robbins,he had rolled to one side and was now pulling himself[Pg 46]away very much as I have seen a wounded hare, withboth hind legs shattered, drag itself to a burrow.

What mattered it?—the key was what we wanted nowmost of all; let the poor devil seek safety after his ownfashion.

Robbins was also disgusted—I saw him look up, andwondered whether he had conceived the idea of chasingthe creeping wretch, to throttle him until he confessedwhat he had done with the key.

But it was something else that had occurred to mygood friend.

“Keep looking, Morgan, while I run and make sure ifthe door is fast.”

As he said this, I saw him bound away.

The door could only be a biscuit’s toss down the wall,and his errand would not consume more than a couple ofminutes at the most, while much might hinge upon theresult.

I had the lantern, and with added zeal kept up thesearch. Did ever a more obstinate key exist than the onewe so eagerly sought to discover? At least I had neverheard of it.

Then back came Robbins, panting from his exertions,for these big men always become winded more easilythan those of us who are blessed with lesser bulk.

As I glanced up into his face, I read our finish there;disappointment was plainly expressed in the grim mannerin which the mate clinched his teeth.

Such men are not easily downed, and the glow of hiseyes told us of a sullen determination to keep up the goodwork, even though we were compelled to force a way intothe hacienda and reach the street by fighting those whomight there oppose our progress.

[Pg 47]

CHAPTER VIII.

MY TURN COMES.

“We must go back—there is a large party advancing.Even if we found the key, the chances are we could hardlyuse it.”

Robbins’ declaration gave me a chill.

Go back? That meant to the house where we could nolonger hope to remain concealed! Was this the beginningof the end?

I braced myself for the shock—above all, I must rememberwhose eyes were upon me—the chance I had oftenprayed for might now be close at hand, and at any rateI must appear to be as cool as an iceberg, no matter if myblood seemed on fire and my heart thumped like a forcepump.

“Then let us go—something may turn up. The door islost to us, but there are other ways of reaching the street,and we’re going to get there,” I said, with dogged determination.

So we wheeled around.

I could not say what object I had in holding on to thelantern—perhaps it was purely mechanical on my part,but, after all, it proved a very lucky move.

No doubt Robbins was also endeavoring to whip hisfaculties into line and conjure up some new plan, which,if successfully carried out, might result in our escape.

I know I never racked my brains with a greater vim inthe whole course of my life than during that brief passageof time.

And the idea that suddenly dawned upon me was, afterall, more in the nature of a genuine inspiration than theresult of reasoning.

[Pg 48]

As we proceeded we came to the abrupt turn where thepath left the wall, and took up a direct line for the casaitself.

Here stood the little toolhouse of the gardener.

We had seen it twice before, and on each occasion Ihad given it but a cursory glance, but now it suddenlyappealed to me with almost irresistible persuasion.

“Stop here—I have a plan!” I exclaimed.

Fortunately, the hottest part of the hunt seemed to coverother parts of the gardens, and this particular section wasas yet free to us.

“What have you found?” demanded Robbins.

I pointed to the gardener’s toolhouse.

“Bah! they will surely search that.”

“But I don’t mean to hide,” I said.

“A fort, then—it might serve for a little time, but capturewould be sure.”

“Nonsense, man! The roof—don’t you see it is almostas high as the wall.”

Then Robbins gave a cry of delight.

“Bully boy!—our chance at last! Now, only to get onthe roof! Oh, for a ladder.”

“Let us look.”

The door of the long, little building was wide open,though, if my memory served me rightly, it had beenclosed when we passed before.

This mystery was quickly explained when my friendpointed to some blood spots upon the sill; the woundedgardener had sought refuge in the place, it being his firstthought as a haven.

At our entrance the poor devil who had been tryingto conceal himself behind a lot of pots and tubs, believingwe had followed with the purpose of finishing him,began to pray about as vigorously as I ever heard any one.

[Pg 49]

One quick glance around failed to show me what Ilonged to see more than all else—a ladder.

There was a coil of stout rope hanging from a peg, andthis I seized upon and tossed over to Robbins, who seemeddisposed to let me run the whole business now, perhapsbecause it was I who had conceived the idea.

It was full time I was forging to the front.

Having grasped the bull by the horns, I went from onething to another without a break.

Hardly had Robbins clutched the rope than I was bendingover the terrified gardener, and gripping his shoulderso fiercely that, believing his last minute had come,he let out a yell and appeared about to keel right over, toavoid which I shook him with considerable roughness, andluckily remembering, as I thought, one particular word ofSpanish, I shouted in the old fellow’s ear:

“Escalado! escalado! escalado!”

And he actually comprehended me this time, which factmust be put down to my credit.

Understanding that he had a chance for his miserablelife, the fellow aroused himself and sprang a jargon uponme which was about as intelligible as so much Sanscrit orHebrew would have been, accompanying his words withvehement and eloquent gestures.

For the life of me I did not know whether he wasbegging me to spare him for the sake of his sixteen motherlessbairns, or asking the favor of being buried in thetrue faith.

I shook him again, and shouted louder:

“Escalado! escalado!—where is the escalado?”

More wild protestations that were as Greek, more flingingof the arms. Confound the old chap! why couldn’the speak English?

“Señor—oh, señor!”

It was little Carmencita who called aloud, and looking[Pg 50]up I discovered that both she and Hildegarde were in thedoorway, surveying all that went on with eager curiosity.

Oh! here was an interpreter, and my misery gave promiseof being ended.

“What does he say?” I demanded, furious to think ofthe time wasted.

“The ladder is behind the toolhouse,” she said, in amixture of Spanish and English.

“Good! good! Robbins, lay hold on it. We may behappy yet.”

I withdrew my hand from the frightened chap, whostraightway fell to groaning his prayers as though desirousof preparing himself for being speedily usheredinto eternity.

I cared no longer for his woes—there was good Robbinsbuckling under the weight of the ladder, which hehad found just as the girl had said.

I was more than once inclined to believe her bright eyeshad discovered it sticking out, and that the gardener hadnot, after all, understood my elegant Spanish phraseology,bad luck to him!

Robbins quickly had the ladder slanting up to the roofof the toolhouse—it was long enough to extend a footabove the wall, a fact I noted with extreme satisfaction,for I had to think of getting down as well as up.

“Can you ascend?”

I half extended my hand to assist Hildegarde, but perhapsshe failed to note the fact, or else did not care toaccept my aid, for she mounted the ladder with the agilityof a gazelle leaping over the green veldt—a swish of herskirts and she had landed upon the gently sloping roofof the toolhouse.

I wanted to cry “well done,” but something seemed tohold my tongue; she would not care for such an expressionof appreciation on my part.

[Pg 51]

“You next, Carmencita,” I said, and the child was upin almost a twinkling, to meet the eager, outstretched handabove, and be drawn safely to the roof.

“I’m last,” declared Robbins.

“Very good,” was my reply, and with a rush I darted upthe ladder.

Then came the sturdy mate—the lantern I had blownout and left below, as we had no longer any need for itsservices, and its light might betray us to the enemy.

They had scattered in various directions, so that thewhole garden seemed to be undergoing a species of springcleaning, bushes being roundly whipped and every foot ofground closely searched—all but the very corner where wewere so busily engaged in working out our own salvation.

No sooner was Robbins able to plant his feet uponthe roof than he laid hold of his side of the clumsy ladder,even as I had grasped the other.

It was a cumbersome affair, that certainly reflected nogreat credit on its builder, but something had to comewhen the two of us got to work, and hence the ladder wassuccessfully hoisted and swung over the outside of thewall.

What did this mean? It failed to touch the bottom!There must be a greater depth in the street than on thegarden side.

We bent down, holding it with main strength, andstill found no footing.

“It must go,” I gasped, red in the face.

“Surely. We take chances. Say when,” was the replyof the mate.

“Now, then.”

Both released our hold together—there was a dull soundbelow, as the foot of the ladder struck, and I listenedwith my heart in my mouth, expecting a crash as it toppledover, but it failed to come.

[Pg 52]

At least, we did not seem reduced to the sterner resortto the rope, as yet.

“Hold on—let me go,” I cried, clutching hold of theeager Robbins, who was already halfway over the parapetof the adobe wall.

“Nixy—my business—yours is to look after her, Morgan,”he hurriedly answered.

Undoubtedly she heard him.

I could not contradict the fellow—surely that was notthe time or place to enter into a discussion as to what myduty might be toward Hildegarde; once it had been myhighest ambition to serve her as a man may only servethe one woman he loves on earth, but that had long sincepassed, and I was no longer anything of a factor in herworld, only a bitter memory of a past that she wouldsooner forget.

Meanwhile Robbins had found a footing on the topround of the ladder.

“Will it hold?” I inquired, eagerly, fearfully, for Idreaded lest the old thing would topple over and precipitatehim into the street.

It was bad enough with Robbins, but, deprived of hischeery presence, our chances would be poor indeed.

“Yes, I think so. Take this rope and lower one endwith me—it will help steady things. Once below, I’ll putthe ladder on a secure foundation.”

Then he went down.

A few brief seconds of suspense—I knew he hadreached the street, for he let go the rope, which I pulled upand made a noose at the end.

I could hear him move the ladder some, in order toplant it more steadily.

It was a time of great suspense—those in the gardenhad discovered our presence on the roof of the toolhouse,and while some ran to the door in the wall, hoping to get[Pg 53]out and cut off our escape, others gathered below, andnot only shouted at us, but began to throw things, thecurs!

I was tempted to open on them with my pistol, butrealized that other affairs needed attention.

The noose was slipped about Carmencita, and the child,lowered by my arms to the ladder, made the descent insafety.

Once more the rope was drawn up. Hildegarde wasnext. She took the noose from my hand and slippedit under her arms without my assistance; I could not butadmire her courage. Next she stepped to the edge of thewall, and looked fearfully down to where the unseen ladderstood.

“You must forgive me, but it can’t be helped,” I said,suddenly, with a determination that would not be baffled.

In another instant I had her again in my arms, shewhom I had not seen for two long years, and yet who hadonce been flesh of my flesh, the woman I had loved aboveall else on God’s footstool, and whom I had in my fool’sparadise called—“wife!”

CHAPTER IX.

SAVING THE SATCHEL.

There were certainly enough dramatic elements concentratedin that critical moment to make it an epoch ofmy life, long to be marked with a white cross.

Those in the garden were throwing whatever they couldlay hands on, and if the shower of missiles such as adobebricks and broken flowerpots was not overwhelming it[Pg 54]could be laid to the scarcity of material rather then anylack of desire on the part of the excited participants.

One fellow appeared to have a gun of some sort, andbegan banging away with a recklessness that gave me acold chill.

True, I had no fear of his aim, but there was alwaysdanger from an accidental hit, for I had seen greenhornsbring the largest fish to net, and knew the quality of luck.

I had an idea one or two of the bolder spirits amongthe alcalde’s guests were endeavoring to climb to the roofof the toolhouse, a feat only to be accomplished by themost athletic.

These things, vexatious as they certainly were, could notkeep me from devoting my whole energies toward thetask now engaging my attention.

In fact, they were of no greater moment than a swarmof angry bees buzzing about my ears.

Perhaps Hildegarde might have ventured to make someremonstrance had I given her an opportunity to do so;but my prompt action swept everything before it.

I would not dare attempt to analyze the very peculiarfeeling that came over me at the magnetic touch of herperson; I had steeled my heart to resist all influences ofthis kind, and foolishly believed I was strong enough toapproach this woman as calmly and indifferently as thoughshe were a stranger.

Alas! I realized my mistake as I crushed her almostsavagely in my arms; surely there was hardly any necessityfor such a bear’s hug.

Would she notice my unnecessary fervor, and in hersoul despise me for such weakness?

The thought, coming with electrical swiftness, made mestrong again; I could not bear her scorn or contempt.

So I lowered her over the parapet of the wall, seeking[Pg 55]to so arrange it that her feet might rest upon the upperround of the unseen ladder.

She seemed quite self-possessed, and aided me bygrasping the top of the wall.

“The ladder—have you found it?” I called in her ear,close to my lips.

“Yes—yes—let me go!” she panted.

Perhaps other reasons influenced her—perhaps she waseven anxious for my safety; but in the perversity of myheart I chose to believe that it was the desire to be freefrom the hateful clasp of my arms.

Promptly I released her. The rope was still with me,and I held on to that, planting myself firmly against theparapet of the adobe wall, so that I might be in a positionto bear a shock should she by any mischance loseher footing.

While I lowered away, unconsciously breathing a prayerof thanks with each yard gained, I became conscious ofthe fact that the mixed assemblage in the garden hadfound a new supply of missiles, for all manner of thingsrattled about me, and several times I was struck quiteheavily.

But nothing turned me from my grim determinationto carry out my project to the very end. A sigh of reliefescaped me when I realized from the sudden slackeningof the rope that Hildegarde was safely depositedupon the pavement outside.

Now I could pay attention to my own case.

It was high time.

One of the bold climbers had managed to gain the roofof the toolhouse.

He was just staggering to his feet, and I could see inthe faint light from the lanterns carried by those in thegardens, that he wore some sort of gorgeous uniform.

Then it flashed across me that this could be no other[Pg 56]than the illustrious Gen. Toreado, commander-in-chief ofthe grand army of several hundred barefoot soldiers, aman who had been a soldier of fortune all his life, leaderin ten revolutions, and one not to be lightly offended.

It was not my intention at that particular moment totarry there—I had no reason to desire an interview withthe ferocious old fire eater who was wont to go raging upand down like a burning brand, through these wonderfullittle Central American republics.

My hand was on the parapet of the wall, and I knewI could reach the ladder and hustle down to apparentsafety before the general could scramble over the gentlysloping room to prevent me.

This I was just in the act of doing, when of a suddenI remembered something.

It was that confounded satchel!

I had, of course, laid it down, the better to place Hildegardeon the ladder.

To abandon it was not to be considered for even aninstant.

What would she say to me? It contained perhaps herjewels—yes, and there was that silver picture frame inclosingthe photo of my lucky successor. Surely thesethings were worth risking my life for.

At any rate, I did not take the time to think over thematter—a man is bound to act pretty much on impulse insuch a case.

I abandoned all present ideas of retreat, and instead,sounded the charge.

No doubt that sturdy old war horse Gen. Toreado, wasconsiderably surprised when I gave an Indian yell and descendedupon him with all the fury of a young tornado.

I did not mean he should have any chance to draw aweapon, not caring to spit myself, carried forward bythe violence of my rush, upon his Toledo blade.

[Pg 57]

He was a much older man than I, but a soldier musttake hard knocks as they come, and it was neither the timenor place to solve questions of military etiquette.

I rammed him good and hard, meaning to clear thedeck in one round.

The general had doubtless found considerable difficultyin making the ascent, for he was still breathing heavilywhen I ran up against him.

It was much easier going down.

All he had to do was to spread out his legs and armslike a huge jumping frog, take a lovely somersault, and,presto! the thing was done.

If one looks far enough there is usually adequate compensationfor all laborious efforts.

But I am of the opinion that the venerable fire eaternever fully realized how striking an example of equationI solved when I tumbled him so neatly from the roof ofthe toolshed; and should I ever have the misfortune tofall into his hands, something besides gratitude wouldmark his action toward me.

Of course, I had not the slightest idea of ever becominghis prisoner.

Another head had cropped up above the edge of theroof, but when I made a dash in that quarter, the fellowlet go in a hurry, and crashed down on those who wereso industriously boosting him from below.

All of this in plain view of the alcalde and his merryguests, who were almost beside themselves with astonishmentand rage.

The missiles flew hotter than ever, a perfect bombardmentof Fort Sumter, so to speak; but my mind was nowset upon finding the precious bag, and I did not eventry to dodge the magnificent assortment of decayed vegetables,adobe bricks and miscellaneous gardener’s toolsthat clattered upon the roof.

[Pg 58]

Could I have unconsciously kicked the satchel overboardwhen I made my furious rush for the doughtygeneral?

This was my first thought when I failed to locate itimmediately.

Singularly enough, the loss of the exasperating thingaffected me tremendously—I even dreaded the thought offacing the owner again without my trust. What wouldshe say, and how her tears must flow for that lost photoin the silver frame—hang him!

Then sudden joy—an object caught my eye that lookedsuspiciously like the bag.

I pounced upon it with an eagerness born of despair,and almost shouted “hallelujah!” when I found it waswhat I sought.

Now to conduct a masterly retreat.

No one else had as yet appeared on the roof, and apparentlymy enemies had ceased to worry me for a briefinterval.

I tried to do everything decently and in order, but foundit convenient to make each second tell, for I had alreadyreceived several knocks from various missiles, thrownwith more or less vigor, and there was danger lest onemight do me irreparable damage.

When I flung myself over the wall, I was at first unableto find the ladder—my swaying feet struck only anempty void, and the awful thought came into my headthat perhaps enemies had arrived in the calle and removedmy only means of escape.

Just then, however, I heard a voice which I recognizedeven in the midst of the riotous proceedings as belongingto Robbins:

“To the left—only a foot or so—to the left!” was whathe shouted.

Of course, I knew this was for my guidance—that he[Pg 59]had seen my ineffectual search for the ladder, and wasbent on telling me where it lay.

So I readily found footing, and lost no time in slidingdown to the ground, where Robbins caught me in hisarms, and set me on my feet.

It was just as well, for my head had begun to spina little, possibly from the effect of a collision with anadobe brick that had not been any too soft.

“Why did you go back?” asked a voice, close to myear—Hildegarde’s voice.

“To get the satchel,” I replied, grimly, “and to do itI had to tumble that magnificent old Gen. Toreado fromthe roof.”

“It was splendid; but, oh, so foolish of you!”

That served as an enigma for me, and often I ponderedupon its possibilities, without being able to decide justwhat she meant to imply.

But Robbins, like a sensible fellow, had no idea of lettingus stay there a second more than was absolutelynecessary for me to get my wind.

“Come, let’s dust it,” he said; “the beggars are bearingdown on us yonder.”

What he said was only actual truth, for a crowd wascoming down the calle, uttering all sorts of cries, andready to give us more trouble than we were prepared toface.

So we ran.

[Pg 60]

CHAPTER X.

THE SAME FOOL.

I take it that even the bravest of soldiers do not considerthat a masterly retreat reflects upon their valor, especiallywhen it can only be avoided by serious consequences.

As for Robbins and myself, we hadn’t the least scrupleabout levanting, and our only anxiety lay in the fear thatwe might not be able to get away speedily enough, forthose fellows were swooping down with considerablepromptness, and we had those in our charge who couldnot be expected to run as rapidly as ourselves.

I must confess I was pleasantly surprised to see thatCarmencita could gallop along like a young fawn, whileHildegarde also proved herself able to accomplish somethingin that line.

So we left the circus behind—for they were still keepingup the delectable chorus over the garden wall in amanner that would have won great praise on the comicopera stage.

My one thought now was to cover the acres of groundseparating us from the “pebbly strand,” where the dimplingwaters of the Caribbean kissed the shore of Tobasco,one time a republic.

The good city of Bolivar would ere long be a very unhealthyplace for a fellow of my size: doubtless I had beenrecognized as a Yankee by some of the rabble. WordsI had shouted would have betrayed this fact, if nothingelse, and there were few enough of my breed in the capital,so that my identification would be easy.

Truly, the sooner my feet trod the deck of my saucylittle vessel, the better for my peace of mind. They have[Pg 61]an uncomfortable way of standing a fellow up before afile of barefoot soldiers, and against a dead wall, in theserevolutionary republics, and then trying the case afterthe execution; and when one considers what wretchedshots these fellows are, the fear lest they might miss theirmark and require a second volley, would be greater thanthe actual pangs of dissolution.

For the moment I had forgotten what Hildegarde hadso vehemently declared about ever setting foot on myyacht.

Really, there was no other refuge—it was Hobson’schoice.

If she proved obdurate, and ventured to fly in the faceof good fortune, we must adopt some other plan, for Iwas grimly determined she should owe her escape to mymuch abused boat.

Escape—from what?

Well, there was the riotous mob back yonder, dangerenough in itself; but, going back to the prime cause—escapefrom what?

That reminded me of the fact that as yet I had not thefaintest inkling concerning the nature of the peril thatmenaced her in the house of Bolivar’s worthy alcalde.

My willingness to risk life and liberty in her servicefor what might simply be a whim—to do all this whileutterly in the dark as to the cause—would these things occurto her as worthy of notice?

Well, we were making good time, you may be sure,hoping to outdistance the crowd.

They had sighted us, however, and were in full cry, likea pack of hounds after a fox.

We chose the more unfrequented streets for many reasons,chief among which was the fact that on the mainthoroughfares our passage must of necessity be blocked bythe merrymaking crowds.

[Pg 62]

There was always a danger lest some fellow, prowlingin these darker calles for some evil purpose, might endeavorto bring us to bay.

I would feel genuinely sorry for him if Robbins found achance to smash a blow straight from the shoulder intohis face, for the big mate possessed the power of a bull.

At the same time, while I ran alongside of Hildegarde,I held something in my hand, the one that was disengagedfrom that accursed satchel—something that fewmen care to face, at least when the finger of desperationtoys with the trigger.

I was not in a mood for play.

It had apparently reached a point where the whole populationof Bolivar was arrayed against us—men, womenand children.

The man who raised a hand against Hildegarde wouldrue the consequences.

I was bent upon saving her—perhaps for that otherfellow, whom I hated; but, nevertheless, I was determinedto save her at any cost.

All the while we were zigzagging across the city, andnearing blue water.

I tried to imagine I could smell the salty air, but thatwas impossible in Bolivar, since every cable had an odorpeculiar unto itself, and each exceeded the preceding onein intensity.

Now and then I bawled out which turn Robbins wasto make, who galloped in the van with the little dark-facedgirl, for he was a complete stranger in Bolivar, while Ihad haunted almost every street in the days of my idling.

Once I saw a dark figure rise up ahead as if about toseize upon the mate, doubtless thinking all that came to hisnet fair prey.

Poor fool! He did not know that it would have been[Pg 63]better for him to have run up against a steam engine thanthat son of Neptune, with his sledgehammer fist.

I heard an awful impact, saw the fellow go whirlingback into the darkness whence he had so eagerly sprung,and, when passing the scene of the encounter, dolefulgroans told me that chap would trouble us no more.

About this time another thing occurred to give meanxiety.

Hildegarde had tripped along in a fashion to arouse mysecret admiration, for it had never occurred to me in thepast that she had the making of a heroine in her. I hadconsidered her simply a little domestic despot, who wouldrule the family roost or at once abdicate.

But the chase was beginning to tell upon the little woman;excitement had lent her wings, as it were, up to now;but even this goad began to fail in spurring her on.

We could not be far away from the shore now, and possiblyin five minutes our eyes would be gladdened by aglimpse of the dancing waves shimmering in the tropicalnight, with the lights of my yacht gleaming there like abeacon of hope.

Yes, Hildegarde was failing.

I could hear her panting; being no experienced sprinter,she had not learned to keep her lips together while sheran.

There was danger of a collapse.

Really, this would not do at all.

I could hardly pick her up and carry her, even thoughshe were willing; but there was a way in which I mightassist.

The now useless weapon I thrust into a pocket, changedthat miserable handbag to my other set of digits, and then,for the second time that night, without so much as “byyour leave,” threw an arm around Hildegarde.

Did she shrink? Was her hatred for me so bitter that[Pg 64]she would face any danger rather than suffer such contact?Well, I did not feel any movement of this sort, norwould it have made the least difference to me in the desperatecondition of affairs that confronted us.

Now we made out better.

With such assistance as I could give, Hildegarde wasenabled to keep up.

Strange how I should at such a critical moment allowmy thoughts to fly far back into the dim past to wherea young man and a maiden fair sauntered through wheatfields and clover patches, each forgetful of the fact thatthere had been lovers true before their day.

Perhaps close contact between a sturdy arm and a winsomewaist has been responsible for some very queerthings, but I venture to declare it never gave a man moreutter contempt for present danger than fell upon me justthen.

Why, I felt as though I could have “taken wings of themorning,” and soared away with her far from the maddeningcrowd, so that we two might once more go Mayingas in those halcyon days before she chose to consider medeficient in manly attributes, and renew the vows made underthe chestnut blooms.

I suppose men will continue to make fools of themselvesuntil the end of time—that is perfectly natural; butit may be set down as a little surprising when one deliberatelyswears he means to remain a celibate the remainderof his life, and then bows down a second timebefore the cruel goddess who had been the cause of hiswanderings.

Bah! I grew disgusted with myself, and unconsciouslyfierce in my actions, until a little “Oh!” close beside megave warning that it was something more fragile than astone idol of the ancient mound builders of Mexico that Iembraced.

[Pg 65]

The bay—would it ever come into view?

And what then? How were we to pass over the interveningwater, so as to reach my yacht?

I kept a boat ashore during the day, but it was now lateat night, and it would be only through the merest luck ifsuch were the case at this time.

Besides, where we reached the water might be a considerabledistance from the spot where the yacht’s boatlay.

Still, there was others, and we would not find fault becausethe craft lacked the conveniences of my own daintynaphtha launch.

By chance, before we came to the water, we had tocross a lighted street, and, intuitively, I knew my companionhad turned to look at me.

Her hood had fallen back, her golden hair was streamingin the wind like Lady Godiva’s and she never lookedmore distractingly lovely, albeit the terror of this thinghad whitened her delicate face, usually aglow with roses,and lent a strange, wild gleam to her blue eyes as she fastenedthem on me.

My first thought was that she was afraid of me becauseof my fierce eagerness, but when she spoke I knewI had been in error.

“See the blood on my arm—on your face. Oh, God,Morgan! you—you are cruelly hurt!” she cried.

[Pg 66]

CHAPTER XI.

A STERN CHASE.

When Hildegarde cried out in such evident dismayupon discovering that I was bleeding more or less profuselyfrom some miserable cut on the head, my first sensation,strange as it may seem, was one of pleasure.

That she should care at all whether I suffered was asingular thing in itself, for people do not usually interestthemselves in those for whom they profess to entertain afeeling of scorn that at least borders on hatred.

This feeling was only too transitory, a fleeting glimpse,as it were, of that Paradise, the doors of which were shutagainst me forever.

Then came the speedy reaction.

Of course, it was at the sight of blood she was dismayed;women seldom can see it without more or lessalarm; and, besides, it had dabbled the side of her dress—myblood, shed for her, but, alas, shed in vain!

“It’s too bad. I’m sorry it stained your dress; really, Ididn’t know I was hurt,” I managed to stammer, in someconfusion, for the sudden change in thought that it wasthe gown and not my condition which caused her dismaygave me a bad turn.

There was not time for further conversation.

We had reached the water front at last, thank goodness!and now for a change of base.

Just as I had pictured in my mind, there was the nobleharbor, with the little waves shimmering in the soft starlight,and lapping the shore with that slumberous murmurso pleasing to the romantic soul.

Eagerly I threw my gaze far out upon the bay to whereI had last seen my yacht.

[Pg 67]

Her anchorage had not been changed, and her lightswere plainly visible; indeed, it seemed to me she was unusuallyilluminated.

A cry from Robbins drew my attention to anotherquarter:

“A steamer in port! Arrived after sundown!”

Sure enough, not a great distance away from the yacht,other lights could be seen, indicating the huge, black hulkof a steamer at anchor.

Then I was able to give something of a guess as to whythe yacht was illuminated. I had been expecting visitorsto join me here, and the steamer had arrived in unusuallyquick time, ahead of her schedule.

Those were matters that gave me very little concernjust then.

A man cannot be expected to take much notice offuture social engagements when a noisy pack of enragedcitizens is in full cry at his heels—and they were comingalong in quite fine style, I assure you, a genuine mob, suchas I had read about in stories of Paris under the Reign ofTerror, men and women vying with each other in the savageshout of:

“Muerta los Gringoes!”

It was rather thrilling, but decidedly unpleasant, all thesame.

What we wanted now was a boat, and we needed itbadly, too.

Little we cared what kind of a boat it was, so long as itwould comfortably hold the crowd and allow of decentprogress through the water.

There was none at the exact spot where we burst uponthe shore.

Hence, it became necessary that we keep up our jogtrot until we met the object of which we were in search.

In starting along the water line, we were careful to head[Pg 68]toward the levee, where the business of the port was carriedon, passengers and freight landed from steamers, andwhere any number of boats of all sizes and descriptionswould be found, day and night.

On the other hand, had we turned to the left, we mighthave run less chance of meeting opposition, but, all thesame, our opportunities for finding a craft would besmaller.

At the time Hildegarde cried out upon discoveringblood upon her gown, I had hastily withdrawn my supportingarm.

Without the assistance I had given her, she made poorprogress, indeed, so that I was forced to once more encircleher waist; the mischief had already been done, andit could not be made worse.

A shout from Robbins—a shout that gave me suddenpleasure, for it seemed to prophesy good news.

I saw him rush forward and bend over some dark objecton the beach.

It was a boat!

Alas! there was no sign of oars, or any other propellingpower, and, without these, what folly to think of goingupon the great bay.

We could not linger to lament our wretched fortune;already the leaders of the pursuing mob had come stringingout from among the houses, and were even now chasingalong the strand.

Better luck next time. Because one boat proved unavailablewas no reason for despair.

There would be a number of them presently, and itwould be a singular thing on this still night if we did notfind one already in the water, ready for use.

I knew a spot where we always landed from the yacht,and there I felt positive of discovering just what wesought.

[Pg 69]

Ha! Another dark object hove in sight, but this timeRobbins did not shout—one disappointment had made himshy.

It was just as well, for, while this boat was equippedwith oars, it was far too small to hold the four of us.

CHAPTER XII.

THE LAST RESORT.

The native boatmen made a rush at the last instant, encouragedby the near proximity of their fellows; but theymissed me by ten feet.

I landed in the stern of the boat, just where Robbinshad intended I should.

He already had the oars in his hands, having severedthe painter with his knife, and instantly bent his broadback with a swoop that might have done credit to a championsculler getting away from the starting line.

We moved—open water appeared between the boat andthe landing stage. Thank Heaven! we were off!

It was too early to crow; there were other boats, andsome of those fellows could row even as well as the muscularmate.

Still, we had the chance for which we erstwhile so ardentlyprayed.

The affair had now assumed a different phase, andpromised to be a water chase. With my yacht in sight, Ihad great hopes of winning out.

Besides, Hildegarde was going on board—she musthave forgotten her violent declaration that nothing couldinduce her to set her foot on that detestable yacht.

When I dropped into the stern of the boat, I naturallyfloundered a little; but it was beamy enough to allow onea chance to recover, and I knew I had business to attendto at my end, as well as Robbins did with his oars.

For instance, there were two ugly boatmen on the landingstage; I imagined they would be in just the humor tohurl anything after us they could lay their hands on, and[Pg 74]since we were not alone in the boat, it was my business toprevent such a bombardment.

As their forms loomed up on the edge of the planks, andI saw one fellow raise his arm to hurl some heavy weightinto our boat that might have sunk us, not to mention thechances for mangled limbs, I sent him my complimentsinstanter.

With the flash and the report, both men dropped flatupon the dock, one from fright, the other, I ferventlyhoped, because he had a bit of hot lead somewhere abouthis anatomy. When I heard him groaning and utteringa perfect prize collection of swear words, I knew I hadpinked the rascal, and my spirits went up accordingly.

Robbins was tugging away like an engine, but theclumsy old boat seemed to move through the water like atub or a derelict.

I heard the mate grumble.

“What’s wrong, old man?” I called, watching the quayfor expected figures, for we were still too close for comfort,despite strenuous exertions.

“Pulls like she had an anchor down. Holy Moses!how’ll we ever get there at this rate?”

His words gave me a sudden thought, born of suspicion;I looked over the rounded stern of the boat, andwas just in time to discover a human head, which instantlyvanished.

“Now she moves!” cried the mate.

“Yes; it was that lubber holding on to the keel anddragging—the fellow you sent in.”

It was fortunate I discovered his clever ruse when I did,for a little more of it would have ruined us.

We were leaving the quay well behind now, but I couldsee that it was rapidly filling with people, who shouted in away that might not be misunderstood.

Of course, they would immediately seize upon all the[Pg 75]available boats at the landing stage, and put out in hotpursuit.

Who cared? With the open bay before us, and mygood yacht in sight, I felt as though this stage of mytroubles was nearing its end.

We could hear them tumbling into the boats, and I onlyhoped their eagerness to share in the golden reward wouldcause them to overcrowd every craft.

Then came the splash of oars in the water, and we knewwe were in for the last stage of this really exciting affair.

I had great confidence in Robbins, more than I felt inthe oars he handled, which I feared were of the usualtreacherous character habitual among those shiftless boatmenof Bolivar, and which might snap under his mightystrokes.

Still the crowd gathered, as though half of the city’spopulation had been drawn to the water side by this modestlittle affair of ours.

Never had the frail landing stage been put to such asevere test.

I trembled for the result, and my fears proved not withoutfoundation, for suddenly there came a tremendouscrash, a din of shouting and shrieking, not unmixed withlaughter, for the tide was low and the water shallow, andthen we knew Bolivar would be put to the expense of anew landing stage as one result of this wonderful“gringo hunt.”

Hildegarde was naturally alarmed at the tremendouscommotion back of us, and feared that some scores ofpersons might be drowned; but I calmed her as best Icould by explaining how very shallow the water was, andwhat amphibious creatures these people were.

Besides, we had troubles of our own, and in a case ofthis kind “every tub must stand on its own bottom.”

The rude boat was but a hollow mockery when it came[Pg 76]to a question of speed—perhaps by some accident we hadchanced upon the very poorest of the lot, but it could notbe set down against Robbins, who at the time was compelledto accept what the gods gave him, and to be influencedmore by the position of the various craft than anythingelse.

I had hoped we would hold our own, and thus lead thepursuers a merry dance up to the very side of the yacht.

It was not to be.

My ear was not finely educated in matters of this sort,but even I could tell that we were being steadily overhauled.

There was no mystery about it—the other boats pulledtwo pairs of oars apiece.

That probably meant more work for me.

I remembered that I had discharged a number of shots,and that in its present condition my revolver was next touseless.

And I also joyfully recollected purchasing a box of cartridgesthat very evening, intending to take it aboard theyacht.

What great, good fortune! Why, things were workingharmoniously all around!

My nimble fingers started to search for that godsend ofa pasteboard box, which was discovered snugly reposingin a pocket of my coat. Then I tore it open, and proceededto load.

I rather guess few men ever replenished the chambersof a revolver under more singular and exciting conditions,with a jerky boat, only starlight to see by, and closelypursued by several detachments of fierce, vindictive natives.

Who the fellows in the other boat might be I neitherknew nor cared; perhaps some of them might have beennumbered among the original guests of the mayor, although[Pg 77]I doubted this very much, as those chaps, if theyhad kept up the long chase, would have been too windedto do much rowing.

More likely they consisted of other watermen, or soldiersrecruited by the riotous mob in its whirlwind passagethrough the town.

Men in all lands are mightily moved by the alluringglitter of a golden prize, and these fellows risked everythingwith that in view.

Hence, I had no other feeling for them save contempt;they might have aroused my respect could I have believedthem influenced by any patriotic motive, but hired assassinsdeserved no mercy at my hands.

And I was grimly resolved that, having enlisted for thewar, I was not to be deterred from doing my duty, with aprecious cargo on board and a haven in sight.

Let them come on; there would be more blood than mineto flow, for no man should put a foot inside this old tubwhile I had a shot left or could wield a boathook.

Straining my eyes, I could see two boats coming up;the other had fallen behind, being like our own, a poormakeshift.

They were overhauling us fast enough, and unless somemiracle offered, we must take our chances with them.

As near as I could make out in the starlight, there wereabout four men in each boat; the odds were certainly overwhelming,but true Anglo-Saxon hearts do not quail whenthe difficulties mount upward.

I believed I could materially lessen their number erethey came alongside, and perhaps create something of consternationin their ranks.

Nearer still, until I could see the figure in each bow,waiting to grapple with us; nearer, while Robbins strainedevery muscle, pulling as man never pulled before; thencame a shout of joy from our pursuers, the meaning of[Pg 78]which I realized only too well, for I had heard one of theoars snap in my comrade’s fearful grip, and knew we wereat last helpless on the water.

CHAPTER XIII.

LIVELY WHILE IT LASTED.

Really, it seemed as though the Fates were against us inthis adventure, since we had to fight most desperately forevery small advantage gained.

I had, it may be remembered, more than once ferventlylonged for some opportunity to prove my valor in thesight of this doubting little woman, so that she mightrealize how she had wronged me in the past; perhaps itwas a childish desire, but a most natural one withal, suchas most men would feel under similar conditions.

But, really, I had not expected such a deluge of desperateconditions to overwhelm us, even as the avalanchedoes the unlucky traveler on the Swiss Alps.

One may even have too much of a good thing.

At least, I thought so when I heard that miserable oarsnap, and found the boats of our enemies swooping downupon us.

Robbins made no further effort to escape.

He was like a lion at bay.

I heard him give a roar of rage as he snatched up theboathook and threw its barbed end aloft.

Just as might have been expected, the two boats cameup, one on either side, as if the whole thing had been previouslyarranged.

My first thought was of Hildegarde, fearing she might[Pg 79]receive some injury in the mêlée that was imminent, andsurely that feeling did me credit.

“Lie down in the bottom of the boat—quick!”

Now, I could distinctly remember the time, since it wasnot so far back, when she had absolutely defied my lawfulauthority, and blankly refused to heed my request.

Not so now, for she seemed to recognize that in this caseI not only knew what might be right, but was also in aposition to command.

So she crouched down, with the terrified child claspedin her arms, while we two desperate men prepared to putup the best fight we knew how.

And, strangely enough, in that second of time, whenthere was a breathing space before the arrival of the boats,my strained ears caught a sound that thrilled me with renewedhope—it was the distinct “chug-chug-chug” of alittle naphtha engine, and I knew that the launch had setout from the yacht and was bearing down upon us.

If we could only resist this savage attack for a few moments,we were saved.

“Keep back—keep back!” I shouted, as I stood up inthe stern and waved my pistol, for I wanted no man’sblood on my hands, if it could possibly be avoided.

Perhaps they understood, for they laughed derisivelyand pulled wildly on.

It was time to begin.

I had the sole power of bridging the little distance stillseparating the boats, but which the rapid pace with whichthey advanced was quickly annihilating.

Again my long practice with a pistol served me a goodturn.

My first shot was all right.

I had picked out the fellow who leaned over the bow,like a gaunt harpy, eager to lay hold as they came up and[Pg 80]to fasten the boats together, while his companions smotheredus with very numbers.

He made quite a fuss over the matter; really, you mighthave thought he was the recipient of a cannon ball somewhereabout his anatomy, instead of a tiny leaden pill.

I knew he was not much to be feared in the coming encounter,and turned to present my further complimentsto the fellow who dangled from the bow of the other boat.

Jove! he had a pistol, too, and even as I looked that way,it flashed fire, while the angry bellow rang over the water.

How lucky for us that he had never made it his hobbyto do target practice some thousands of times like myself,else would the bullet have found better service than towhistle past our ears, and go ricochetting over the waterbeyond.

That settled him.

I considered him too dangerous an individual to losesight of—doubtless, his weapon still contained five shots,and if he kept on blazing away in this reckless manner,who could tell but that one bullet might, by some wonderfulaccident, do us serious damage.

Such things have happened.

As soon as I had covered this individual, I felt a grimsatisfaction, for I knew his name was Dennis, and that hewas my game.

He proved to be even more averse to taking his medicinethan my first patient, for he floundered around in the boat,whooping it up like a wild Yaqui Indian, and threatened tobring the whole outfit to grief; realizing which, one of therowers knocked him overboard, and the fellow at thestern dragged him in again, doubtless somewhat cooled byhis immersion.

Brief though the time had been which was consumed inthis little comedy, or tragedy, as you please, it was enoughto bring the boats alongside.

[Pg 81]

Robbins saw his chance with the boathook to keep oneof them at arm’s length, so to speak.

He planted it solidly against the bow of the boat, andeffectually blocked its progress, while moving our owncraft a little.

This gave me a chance at the other.

There were three fellows besides the cripple.

They saw me crouching there, waiting like a Nemesisfor them, and the sight was not at all to their liking.

A couple of them began to yelp dismally, like a dog thatsees his finish when the irate master draws near, whip inhand.

Cowards at heart, they would have fled the spot if givena chance; but the battle was now on, and even rats at bayare to be feared.

The third fellow proved to have more sand, for he madea wicked lunge at me with his oar, and only that I threwup my left arm, I must have received a blow on the craniumthat, following the first, might have done for meentirely.

As it was, I would have a sore arm for some time tocome, and might thank my lucky stars that it had not beenbroken, for he made a vicious blow.

Thankful for past favors, I returned him a Roland forhis Oliver, for I fired when he was only five feet from themuzzle of my pistol, and it did not require target practicethen to bring down my bird.

Instead of shooting the other two howling dervishes inthe boat, I bent over, seized an oar from the craft, and thengave the latter a vigorous push that sent it far off.

Thus had I, single handed, gained the mastery over oneof the hostile boats.

Robbins needed help. He was embroiled in a desperatehand-to-hand struggle with the other chaps.

Probably they had seized upon his boathook and drawn[Pg 82]alongside in that way; I do not know just how it wasdone, but when I turned, after my successful little crusade,I found the whole three were reaching out for the mate,and threatening to come aboard.

The captured oar was in my hands, and surely I knewonly too well what misery it was capable of producingwhen properly applied.

My stout ashen weapon, as I expected, served to createa diversion among the ranks of the enemy.

The first man who sampled its qualities went down inthe bottom of the boat in a heap, to mingle his groans andswear words with the fellow who sat wildly feeling hereand there over the whole surface of his anatomy, endeavoringto discover where my bullet had lodged.

I think there must have been magic in the ashen blade,it seemed to so promptly cure the maniac qualities of all towhom it was applied, so that they underwent an instantaneouschange, and became almost angels.

That left two. Surely, we could manage them.

Robbins was giving one some severe treatment when Iturned my batteries on the remaining chap.

This time I merely planted the end of my oar againstthe pit of his stomach, and then applied some strength ina sudden shove. He staggered back, tripped over athwart, or the two moaning fellows in the bottom of theboat, and measured his length there with a most ominouscrash.

So successful had been this method of attack that I persistedin applying it; when you have a good thing, it iswise to push it along.

I managed this time to get the oar against the side ofthe boat, upon which I worked with such earnestness ofpurpose that it was pushed away from the craft we occupied.

And this brought about another unlucky contretemps[Pg 83]for the enemy. Robbins had a grip on the last of them,and seemed loath to let go until he found he was draggingthe chap over the side; then, when he did release hisclutch, the fellow having no hold on either boat, fell betweenthem into the tide.

This was the last of the Mohicans—the coast seemedclear, though the third boat, heavily laden, was coming upwith a rush.

We did not mean to wait for them.

For my part, I had had quite enough of the scramble,and longed to rest my aching head on a pillow.

At once I passed the captured oar into Robbins’ hands,and he dropped back into his seat.

Then, as we began to move again, I noticed the crouchingfigures in the bottom of the boat, and my heart filledwith pity. I cried:

“Have no further fear, Hildegarde. We are safe!”

CHAPTER XIV.

HILDEGARDE EMBARKS.

To tell the truth, I must have imbibed something of thepride that came to old-time Romans when returning victoriousfrom the wars, but if they felt as “rocky” as I didafter my experience with adobes and ashen oars, surelythey were not to be particularly envied.

It is always a great satisfaction to win out—successcauses us to forget for the time being the bruised head andweary frame—a generous glow suffuses the heart, and wepuff out with a feeling of consequence.

I had done enough to be pardoned for some such weakness.

[Pg 84]

And she, Hildegarde, had seen it all.

Did she think me a coward now, a vain boaster, whowould flee before a shadow?

Well, I guess not—at least, there was reason to believeI had vindicated my right to be called a man.

The third boat still pursued us, but in a half-heartedway, for they had discovered what an earthquake hadoverwhelmed the others, and experienced a change ofopinion regarding the desirability of getting to close quarters.

Besides, Robbins was pulling steadily, and at everystroke our craft was pushed a length ahead.

I looked around.

There upon the water I saw a rapidly approaching object—aboat with a lantern in it, a boat that coughed intermittentlyas it bore down upon us.

I knew that sound well; had I not explored creeks andlagoons in Florida, up the Amazon, and even along theNile in that same little launch?

The chaps back of us were still keeping up more orless of a racket, but distance was already mellowing thesound, and I knew I could make myself heard.

So I bellowed out, using my hands in lieu of a fog-horn:

“Ahoy! Wagner—Cummings—this way!”

Just as I expected, there was an immediate and cheeryresponse, and the launch bore down upon us.

The pursuers had given it up; perhaps believed thatwith reinforcements at hand we might turn the tables andchase them; or it might be more worthy motives causedthem to go back and assist their demoralized comrades.

I cared not a picayune what the motive, so long as wewere rid of the fellows.

Hildegarde once more sat upon a thwart.

Her arm was around Carmencita, and, though unable[Pg 85]to account for the fact, I could see that she was awaitingevents with her nerves at the highest tension.

Strange if, after all I had done, she held that old grudgeagainst me still, and allowed it to make the acceptance ofa temporary shelter on board my yacht a painful necessity.

I could not quite discharge these bitter thoughts thatinsisted upon crowding upon me.

The launch bore around and came up alongside ourclumsy craft.

I was never more glad to grasp hold of it.

Karl Wagner, with another, was aboard—the stout engineer,I think it was—their departure had been in suchhaste, they had not waited for more recruits.

“Let me help you in, Hildegarde,” I said, quietly, andwithal not able to avoid a little tenderness in my voice,for she had been so sadly frightened during the battle onthe water, I felt genuinely sorry for her.

She did not refuse, and actually gave me her hand, sothat I might help her.

Perhaps it was the blow I had so recently received thatmade me feel so dizzy just then; surely, the touch of ahand could not set my heart to beating so madly that theblood went rushing to my head, and after all I had vowedabout bitter feelings, hatred and such things in generaltoward womankind, and this little despot in particular.

Robbins quickly swung the little girl into the launch,and then we followed suit.

The boat was left adrift.

As I lounged there, regardless of the fact that my preciousblood might be soiling the cushions, it all seemedvery like a fantastic dream—the rapid events of this night.

True, all Bolivar was in an uproar because of our boldwork, and doubtless the worthy alcalde was marshaling hislittle army with the intention of seeking our capture, sothat we might be forced to pay heavily for our fun.

[Pg 86]

Bah! we could afford to laugh at all the alcaldes inBolivar, or any other Central American republic, once ourfeet had pressed the deck of the yacht.

Long before he could embark with his arms, we wouldhave steam up and be leaving the harbor, with the seabefore us.

Another thing came to me, and I was really surprisedto see how much genuine pleasure it brought in its train;she must be aboard the yacht, for days, perhaps weeks,and it would surely be my fault if I failed to find somegolden opportunity for affecting a reconciliation; yes,there was little use deceiving myself, I loved her still,loved her better than before, and I was ever willing tobow my proud head to her yoke if so be—— Phew! Ihad forgotten that there might be some disagreeable newsfor me, since I had refused to hear from her during thetwo years of our separation.

What if she had secured a divorce? I had some reasonto believe this were so; but, good heavens, what ifshe had gone even further, and in pique married someother fellow?

That brought out a cold sweat.

I remembered that I had not taken the trouble to askher how she came to be in a foreign city like Bolivar, anda guest of the alcalde. Perhaps some one vested with authorityhad taken her there. I remembered the silverframe and the photograph of which I had obtained but aglimpse, enough to see that it was a man.

It would have pleased me had this bag been forgottenand left in the abandoned boat; but little Carmencita hadkept tight hold of it.

Apparently, my condition might be considered verymuch mixed.

We were now nearing the yacht.

I could tell that those on board were anticipating a[Pg 87]speedy move, for acting under orders, some one hadstarted up the fires, and fresh sparks were shooting out ofher funnel.

This was fortunate.

Bolivar, with its noble harbor, would not be the placefor us after this night.

We must skip if we desired to avoid the consequencesof bearding the august alcalde in his ancestral castle, andoutraging his person with a knockdown argument.

Besides, much blood had been spilled, for which wemust justly be held to account.

I did not know that we had killed any one—I hope not,even though the provocation had been great; but we hadseriously incapacitated half a dozen worthy citizens ofBolivar from continuing their regular avocations for sometime to come, and would be held strictly accountable, ifcaught.

The justice in these Central American courts alwaysleans in favor of the citizen as against the foreigner, who,whether in the right or not, usually finds himself bound topay the costs.

Against this the Yankee spirit rose up in arms, andsince protests never avail in such a case, the only resortwas flight.

Hildegarde had not said one word. I thought I hadfelt a little pressure when I held her hand, but it mayhave been imagination.

As we drew closer to the yacht, I saw her turn and giveme a quick glance, though she did not speak.

What it was influenced her I had no idea at the time,though later on the secret was laid bare to my gaze.

Looking myself to the yacht, I saw there were a numberof persons along the rail, about the place where we woulddraw alongside, there being a landing stage swung over,with several steps to it.

[Pg 88]

One was a woman, for I could see the skirt of her lightgown swaying in the gentle breeze.

I knew who it was.

My expected guests from the steamer were aboard theyacht.

It never occurred to me to see any connection betweenthe presence of Diana Thorpe aboard my boat and the intenseantipathy shown by Hildegarde to coming aboard.

Then a strange thing occurred.

Hildegarde, as if possessed of a sudden overpoweringnotion, suddenly veiled her face behind a flimsy web thathad apparently been fastened to her hat.

This act surprised me.

Evidently, she did not care to be immediately recognized—sheknew who leaned over the rail, her elegantfigure outlined against the lights beyond.

I was too dizzy to understand why she should do thisthing; I can remember that it struck me as queer, and yet,at the same time, I was not unwilling to humor her caprice,and keep her secret for a little time.

At least, I would be better able to wrestle with it whenI got rid of this awful ringing in my head, and could ponderupon it rationally. She had some reason, that wasevident.

At last we were alongside.

Robbins lifted Carmencita up, and willing hands helpedher on deck.

Hildegarde neatly avoided my proffered assistance, andallowed the mate to help her, which caused me to bite mylips in chagrin.

Then I climbed aboard, to be immediately met by aneffusive young woman and a handsome, dapper little gentleman,who wrung my hands and acted as though theywere really very glad to see me.

[Pg 89]

CHAPTER XV.

THE EMBERS ARE STIRRED.

Hildegarde—strange how that name has always affectedme, above all other names on earth—Hildegardehad immediately walked some little distance away uponreaching the deck of the yacht.

No doubt she felt the curious eyes of the royal Dianafastened upon her, and though I had known the timewhen this beauty had to be content with the rôle of secondfiddle when Hildegarde was present, the latter seemed toshrink from facing her now.

Why was this?

Indeed, I could not guess, though half a dozen vaguethoughts flashed through my racked brain.

Perhaps she had no reason to be proud of her presencein this Central American metropolis, and hotbed of revolution—perhapsthings had happened of which I was utterlyignorant, but of which Diana must be cognizant.Perhaps—and here was the keenest rub of all, for it cameas a personal blow—perhaps she was utterly ashamed tobe seen in my company, after the manner in which I hadonce left her.

Well, I had no shame in the matter, and stood ready todo the thing over again if I might serve her.

When Thorpe had wrung my hand like a pump handlein his old, mechanical way, so characteristic of the fellow,who pretended to be a snob, yet was, at heart, a good chap,he began to bombard me with questions.

Really, I could not blame him for being eager to knowwhat I had been doing to get myself embroiled in such ahot mess with the citizens of Bolivar; and as for his fair[Pg 90]cousin, Diana, she was almost consumed with femininecuriosity.

The presence of a mysterious woman in the case addedto its piquancy in her mind.

I was not in the humor to gratify this curiosity, at leastjust then, since other things needed my attention.

“Pardon me for the present, my friends, I beg, andwhen the opportunity arrives I will relate the story. Justnow much demands my attention; I am wounded, theyacht must get out of here before we are overwhelmed—anda lady needs my attention. In half an hour I willjoin you.”

Then I bawled out to Cummings, who had taken chargesince our captain was left seriously ill at New Orleans:

“Mr. Cummings, we must get out of this without delay.Have the launch aboard, the anchor up, and beforewe are an hour out I’ll talk with you about our course.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” he replied, for Cummings was an oldnautical man, whose home had been for many years uponthe briny, wherever his hat chanced to be hung.

I forgot Robbins for the time being, but he was justthe chap to make himself quite at home anywhere.

Hildegarde had stood at a distance, waiting to see whatdisposition I would make of her; she could not have heardwhat passed between the Thorpes and myself, and I ratherfancied she had no desire to listen.

There was an attitude of pride in the way she stoodthere which I did not like.

Surely, I had given her no fresh cause for dislike orscorn; on the contrary, I was fool enough to cherish afond hope that my battles in her behalf on this mad nightmight serve to blot out my shortcomings of the past, ifsuch a thing were possible.

“I must apologize for leaving you even for a minute,” Isaid, in a low voice.

[Pg 91]

“It does not matter—you need not apologize. I expectedthis, and must pay for my weakness in coming,”she replied, coldly.

That was certainly Greek to me; when one has the key,all these puzzles become as simple as the easiest sum inarithmetic, but lacking that, they prove enigmas.

She expected what—that I would neglect her? Surely,she had become captious, indeed, when a minute’s unavoidabledelay on my part was to be so keenly resented.

I bit my lips with vexation.

“If you will go with me, Hildegarde, I can show youyour stateroom.”

“My stateroom?” she echoed, with just a trace of bitternessin her voice. “I beg that you will not deprive anylady or yourself of an apartment on account of my presenceon board. I would not have it for the world.”

“Make your mind easy; no one has occupied this stateroomsince I left Algiers, where I had a party of friendsaboard.”

“In that case I accept. It will not be for long. I shallexpect you to land me at some American port, where Ican be in telegraphic touch with New York.”

I did not answer, perhaps because I wanted to make noreply that would commit me to a measure I might beaverse to carrying out.

We entered the cabin.

It was brightly illuminated, and if I do say it myself,who perhaps should not, that cabin was about as cozy aden as any one would desire.

There were books in racks, easy-chairs, divans and furnishingsthat had cost me quite a snug sum of money.

The prevailing tint was old rose, her favorite color, asI knew well.

That person must be hard to please who failed to findsolid satisfaction aboard the Wanderer.

[Pg 92]

Hildegarde threw back the veil that had concealed herface, for which I was more than glad, as I felt eager tolook upon her beauty again, strangely eager.

She was no longer deathly pale, as when I carried herin my arms to the quay, or when she crouched in the bottomof the boat while Robbins and myself engaged in ourhot little engagement with the enemy; instead, a glowwas in her cheeks, a sparkle in her eyes, and though thechase had loosened her golden hair, I never saw her lookso distractedly charming as at that moment.

She glanced around, and a wave of color passed overher brow; then I knew she had recognized the choice Ihad made in the prevailing tint of the hangings, with thefull knowledge that it had been her favorite.

Slowly her eyes traveled around, even the pictures notescaping her scrutiny.

I heard her give a sigh, as of relief.

Good heavens! could it be possible she had been underthe impression I kept such bachelor quarters aboard thatmy yacht was not a fit place for a lady? Would that accountfor her aversion to the thought of coming aboard?

It seemed almost incredible; surely, she should knowmy tastes of old, and that no matter what my weaknessmight be, it did not run in the line of debauchery.

Then she turned to me, and I saw an expression of genuineanxiety sweep over her face.

“Oh! you are wounded—you look terrible—it must beseen to. How can I forgive myself for thinking as I didwhen you have been in such peril for me? Please go toas little trouble as you can for me; show me my room, andI will bother you no more to-night. It is all so unfortunate,so wretched, that I am almost sorry I sent that note.”

“Well, I am not,” I said, firmly; “but I must present avery disagreeable sight to any one’s eyes. We have no[Pg 93]maid aboard, unfortunately, so I have to do the honorsmyself. This is your room, Hildegarde.”

I opened the door.

The little cubbyhole did look rather alluring, I ambound to confess, and it quite pleased Hildegarde, whocould not suppress an ejaculation of pleasure.

“Will it do?” I asked, humbly. She must never knowwhat strange thoughts used to haunt me whenever I shutmyself in that particular little stateroom and endeavoredto imagine her there, and how more than once I had evenbeen unmanly enough to shed a few tears over the dismalprospect of such a strange event ever happening to takemyself sternly to task afterward about it.

“It is very sweet and lovely. I thank you for all yourkindness, Morgan,” she said, with a tremor in her voicethat affected me curiously.

“I’m glad you like it,” I replied, tempted to tell her thatshe had been in my mind when I fixed up that little place,but realizing the folly of any sentiment between us whomfate had drifted asunder until a whole gulf yawned between,an impassable gulf.

“Now, go and have your wound attended to. I shouldbe very sorry if you suffered any serious inconvenience onmy account. Of course, you are mystified because offinding me in Bolivar; it is a strange story, and I promiseto tell it to you some other time—perhaps to-morrow.”

“I confess I am very curious about it.”

“Nor can I blame you. On my part, I am amazed atthe wonderful chance that brought you, of all men onearth, there to my assistance. It seems incredible—itworries me to think the world is so very small or that acruel fate persists in throwing us together.”

“Cruel, Hildegarde?”

“Yes, cruel, because it is needless, since we can never[Pg 94]be even friends again. It would not do—it would bemonstrous!”

Her words shocked me.

They seemed to suggest some dreadful barrier betweenus; on my part, I knew of none, save our dispute and separation,both of which might be forgiven, and the abyssbridged with the planks of love and charity.

Ah! perhaps it was on her side. The old suspicionarose again concerning her having obtained her freedomat the hands of the law, and married again.

I shivered as with a chill, and then ground my teethtogether.

She must not suspect my weakness, at least until I hadheard her story, and knew the worst I might expect.

“It shall be as you say, Hildegarde. This has beensuch a strange fortune that threw us together I had begunto hope there might be a meaning to it; but I shall respectyour wishes always.”

I turned to go.

“One other favor, Morgan.”

“A dozen, if you like.”

“Would it be possible for the present to keep my identityunknown?”

I knew she was thinking of Diana—her red cheeks betrayedher.

“Why not, if you desire it?” I replied.

“You are very kind; it would please me.”

“Shall I send Carmencita to you? She can act as yourmaid, as I presume she is?”

“Yes, please; and, Morgan—once more, I thank you.God bless you!” and the door closed.

[Pg 95]

CHAPTER XVI.

PASSING THE FORT.

It was not very strange that while under the spell ofHildegarde’s presence I should forget all about my poor,banged head; when a fellow’s heart is thumping tumultuouslyagainst his ribs, as though laboring under an attackof fever, he cannot be expected to remember such triflesas a few bruises.

Of one thing I had suddenly become firmly convinced,and it gave me a spasm of joy such as had been a strangerto me for two long years.

She loved me still; Hildegarde loved me in spite of allthat had passed, of my desertion, and the long interval ofsilence that had elapsed.

What, though there were obstacles, surely they couldbe hurled aside. I felt just then as though I might defythe world, if need be, since my claim was founded on justice;she had been in the past, and, if Heaven were kind,might once more be my Hildegarde.

So it was in almost a merry frame of mind I made myway out of the cabin again.

My spirits were lighter than they had been these manymoons; much remained to be explained, and difficultiesto be overcome, but oh, the ecstasy of believing that theold love still burned within her heart.

Once on deck, I looked for the girl.

Already they were getting the anchor up, and raisingthe launch aboard by means of block and tackle attachedto the davits.

Carmencita I easily found; the child was shrinkingagainst the cabin bulkhead, and seemed overwhelmed withshyness in the presence of Diana.

[Pg 96]

I imagined the latter might have been endeavoring toextract some information from her, but from my own experience,I knew how hopeless this must be without aknowledge of Spanish, which, I felt sure, she did notpossess.

“Come with me, Carmencita, to your mistress. Whatis that you have there? Oh, her bag. Let me carry itfor you.”

I saw Diana’s eyes fastened curiously upon the littlearticle as I took hold of it; but thought no more about thematter, or what she might weave from the fact of myinitials being on the bag.

It gave me a queer feeling to take hold of the thingagain—that photograph, you know. After all, was thereanything so strange about that? Suppose some one wouldpoint out a very handsome fellow on the street and sayconfidentially to you: “Two years from now that chapwill be your wife’s husband?” I suppose it would giveyou a start, and every time you saw him after that youwould be certain to have a bad feeling.

Well, that covered my case, only it was even more aggravated,since I had some reason to suspect the two yearshad already flown, and the prophecy was an accomplishedfact.

I stalked into the cabin, and knocked at the door ofHildegarde’s stateroom, which she at once opened.

“I’ve brought him—I mean the bag, to you, and here’sCarmencita, too,” I said, extending my burden, which sheeagerly pounced upon.

“Oh! I wouldn’t have lost that for worlds!”

“H’m! I suppose not,” I said, disconsolately.

“For it contains something I value very highly,” shecontinued, looking straight at me, and smiling in a mysteriousway.

I bowed and retreated.

[Pg 97]

Now, what did she mean? Was it her jewels, that infernalphoto, or was there something even more valuablein the bag, something which I had not seen?

And why should she look at me in that way if she werereferring to the picture of my successor? Did she actuallyrejoice in this opportunity to give me pain? Womencould be so mercilessly cruel when they chose.

I was not feeling so merry now; indeed, my face musthave been very long, if the doubts that assailed me hadmuch to do with my looks.

Remembering what an awful condition I must be inafter this series of adventures, I sought my own stateroom,and proceeded to remove all traces of wear and tear.

The wound on my head had ceased to bleed, thoughthere was a lump there the size of a hen’s egg, that feltvery sore to the touch.

I bathed it with witch hazel, and managed to make myselffairly presentable.

Then my duties as a host forced me to seek my guests.

I had anticipated a pleasant cruise in the society of theseold friends, and had hoped their genial company wouldhelp to dissipate the fog that hovered about my spirits.

Now, strange to say, I deeply regretted their presenceaboard, nor could I give a plausible reason for such acomplete change in my feelings, save that the strangeevents of this evening had revealed my own soul to myastonished gaze, and a mad hope had sprung up in myheart.

My guests awaited me on deck.

Already we were beginning to move through the water,and soon the light of gay old Bolivar would be lost overthe expanse of sea.

I rejoiced that far, and saw nothing to regret in leavingthe place; it was a little too hot a town for my blood.

We chatted for a time on various matters.

[Pg 98]

I knew both of my guests were just dying to questionme about the mysterious lady who had come aboard insuch a strange way, and with whose arrival my affair onthe bay must certainly have had close connection.

But I was in no hurry to speak—they could pique theircuriosity until I had arranged in my mind just how muchI wanted to tell them now.

One thing I meant to keep quiet, remembering mypromise to Hildegarde, and this concerned her identity;I really enjoyed having a secret from Diana, usually soquick to read the meaning of all signs, and mentally picturedher astonishment when, later, she would learn whomy passenger was.

Finally, she demanded that I redeem my promise, andtell what brought me into conflict with the people ofBolivar.

Just then the steward came to tell me the little repast Ihad ordered was ready in the cabin, so I insisted that theygo in.

“Afterward, while we sit on deck, and we gentlemenhave the privilege of a good cigar, I promise to a tale unfoldthat will harrow up your soul and make your bloodrun cold.”

With that promise, they had to be content.

I knew Hildegarde would not join us; she had said asmuch, and the steward could serve her later with anythingshe might wish.

We did not tarry long at the table.

Gustavus Thorpe was the only one who seemed to haveany appetite, and nothing ever appeared to disturb hisequanimity.

Diana was her old self—marriage with her cousin hadnot changed her merry flow of spirits an iota, and I wonderedwhether constant association with so gay a creaturewould thaw out the icicle any.

[Pg 99]

Despite his foppish ways, Gustavus was a good fellow;I had seen him dead in earnest a few times, and once whenwe were sore beset by a mob of fanatics in Tehera, Persia,he did yeoman work with those lily-white hands that ordinarilyseemed only fit to twist the ends of his straw-coloredmustache, or hold a monocle up to his left optic.

Then we once more went on deck.

“Excuse me for five minutes,” I said.

“Certainly, my dear boy,” answered Thorpe, whileDiana, more vicious, said:

“Don’t let her keep you any longer than that, Morgan;remember, I am dying from curiosity.”

“Ah, but in this case it is a man, the friend who cameaboard with me, Milos Robbins, with whom I once sailed,and whom I met by the rarest accident this very night.”

I reproached myself for having neglected him so long,but I found he had made himself at home on board, asseamen will.

“Come, you don’t belong in here with the men—yourplace is with us. I told you I had a position in my eye foryou. To-morrow I am going to offer you charge of thisyacht; my captain was left sick at New Orleans, and I’mbound to have no other than you. Not a word of refusal,Milos—we are old comrades, and this pleases memore than I can tell you.”

He took my hand, and squeezed it.

“God bless you, Morgan; there’s no one I’d soonerserve; but this sort of cruising is hardly in my line. I’mat home on any sailing craft, from an old hooker to thefinest clipper that ever plowed the seas, but there is muchfor me to learn about a steam yacht.”

“Oh! you’ll pick it up soon enough, with the help ofCummings. And we’ll consider it settled, Captain Robbins.”

He was almost overcome.

[Pg 100]

“Please let me bunk here to-night with the men. We’llarrange it all in the morning, sir. It’s dazzled me a bit,you see, coming so unexpectedly. But I’m deeply grateful,all the same.”

“Nonsense! it’s all on my part, the luck. And we’recomrades, too—think what we’ve gone through together,and who knows what wonderful adventures the near futuremay have in store for you and me, Robbins?”

I spoke lightly, never once dreaming of the tragediesthat lay in wait for us beyond; for who can lift that impenetrableveil by which the future, near or remote, isshrouded?

As it was his wish, and I saw no good reason for insistingon his changing quarters until we had arranged ourplans definitely in the morning, I left him there, and oncemore sought the company of my two guests.

The fresh sea air was invigorating, indeed, as we beganto leave the harbor and strike for the open.

“Look there!” exclaimed Gustavus, pointing to theheadland we were passing.

There was a sudden flash of light, and presently weheard a deep boom.

“They’re firing upon us!” cried Diana, excited.

“Yes, but there is no danger whatever. Those fellowscouldn’t hit a mountain. I heard the ball strike away behind.And in a short time we’ll be entirely out of range.”

“How very exciting to be under fire,” said Diana, as asecond shot rolled over the water.

Then the lights went out temporarily aboard, and thefiring ceased, since the gunners knew not where to aim.

“That episode is concluded,” remarked the lady, and Ireally believe she was sorry.

Gustavus and I lighted cigars, and then found comfortableeasy-chairs at a point where the sea air would notbe too strong.

[Pg 101]

“Now, please begin at the beginning,” pleaded my feminineauditor, and I could remember the time when Ithought Diana the fairest of her sex, for she had been anold flame of mine until I met Hildegarde.

So, feeling very comfortable after my experience ashoreand afloat, and with the yacht dancing over the starlitwaves of the Caribbean Sea, I began my story of a nightin Bolivar’s gay metropolis.

CHAPTER XVII.

AT TWO BELLS.

I have never considered myself much of a yarn-spinner,even though a yachtsman by choice; but if ever a manhad the material for an engaging story thrust upon him, Icertainly came under that head.

Since sunset on this amazing evening, there had fallento my lot a series of the most remarkable adventures themind of mortal man could ever conceive.

Indeed, the only trouble I found in relating my uniqueexperiences was not to tell too much.

There was danger of that.

Diana’s curiosity was keenly whetted.

She saw something of a beautiful mystery in the veiledfigure of the unknown lady with whom I had come aboard.

Perhaps there was an indefinite something about hercarriage that suggested vague familiarity which she couldnot for the life of her place.

On my part, I was grimly determined to give her nosatisfaction.

Hildegarde had begged me to keep her identity secret[Pg 102]for the present, and while I did not quite understand whyshe should wish this, I was perfectly willing to comply.

If Diana discovered the truth, it would have to bethrough other means.

Hence, in telling of my adventures I carefully avoidedall reference to the lady save as the señora who was introuble, and whom Robbins and myself had assisted toescape from those who detained her against her will. Inaccomplishing this result, I had to run the gamut of herquestions, and I am afraid yarn a little; but really she hadno business to be so importunate, and concern herself somaterially about my affairs.

She laughingly declared that the fact of her having oncebeen an old flame of mine, and now a dignified matron—Heavensave the mark!—should entitle her to some consideration,and account in a measure for the deep interestshe took in my welfare.

Luckily I was feeling all right, save for a symptom of“swelled head,” which, under the circumstances, wasallowable.

Indeed, I could even look back over the events of thenight with more or less complacency, believing that I hadborne myself well.

There is an indescribable charm in thus reviewingstormy events when seated in a comfortable chair with aprime weed between one’s teeth; no wonder old soldierstake such keen pleasure in fighting their battles over again.

Diana was plainly not satisfied.

She seemed to realize that I was purposely withholdingsome point that had a material bearing on the story.

Perhaps she believed the lady to be some young andcharming señorita with midnight eyes, whom I had metbefore. I had studiously refrained from all mention ofanything that would lead her to suspect it was an Americanin whose cause Robbins and myself had enlisted,[Pg 103]fearful lest she should put two and two together and solvethe puzzle.

But she was not quite bold enough to demand a directanswer to her questions, and I left her groping in thedark, hugging all manner of delusions to her heart, anddoubtless investing me with such romantic surroundingsas had never entered the head of novelist to conceive.

We soon branched off upon other topics; I was determinedto erase myself as the chief factor in the conversation.

They had traveled much, and between wide awake peoplewho have seen the world there is always much ofmutual interest in comparing notes regarding the oddthings encountered.

More than once I wished they would retire.

Several reasons influenced me.

First, I desired to see Cummings and have somethingto say about our course.

We had our plans arranged for the cruise and, if possible,I did not wish to change them, although if she insistedupon being taken to the United States, I would haveto about-ship, and head in the other direction.

Then, again, I naturally wanted to be alone; so muchhad happened that bordered on the marvelous I wished toponder it over and endeavor to see a rosy light beyond thegloomy clouds.

I had suffered keenly in the midst of splendor andwealth—God alone knew how hungry my heart had beenfor the companionship I once had known; and now, as ifHeaven sent, she had once more risen upon my horizon; Ihad touched her hand, aye, crushed her in my arms, foughtlike a warrior to defend her against enemies, and I wantedto be alone in order to dream of this wonderful thing thatalmost intoxicated me with its possibilities of greatestbliss.

[Pg 104]

Finally Diana took the hint, and declared I had notovercome some of my old-time bearish ways, for I hadbecome dull and stupid.

One could take anything from this bright butterfly withthe gilded wings, and I only pleaded extreme exhaustionin extenuation of my shortcomings.

So they left me.

I often look back to that night and remember how theywent away laughing, with their arms around each other;for even the lordly Gustavus was very fond of his lively,handsome wife, though both had been sad flirts in theirday.

They had been married much longer than a year, butbeing constantly on the go, like the busy bee, sippinghoney from each flower as they went, they declared theywere still on their bridal tour and enjoying their honeymoon.

Yes, I often think of them as I saw them that night,happy as children, knowing no harassing care, contentto accept the bountiful favors an indulgent fortune threwin their way, and perfectly unconscious of any impendingperil.

When I had talked a while with Cummings, and toldhim about my wishes respecting our course, and what Iintended doing for my old friend and shipmate of thePathfinder, I took a few turns on the deck.

We were now far out on the heaving bosom of theCaribbean Sea.

Not a light could be seen in the quarter where, as Iknew, Bolivar lay, for many miles stretched betweenus and that treacherous shore.

Surely I had endured enough to fatigue my body andinduce sleep; that was just the trouble, for while my framewas sore and weary my mind was as keen set and full of[Pg 105]vigor as that of a lawyer ready to begin his plea to judgeand jury.

No use then for me to lie down in my little den and tryto conjure sleep—with Hildegarde so near, and my heartin my throat, as it were.

Another cigar in that comfortable chair; if slumberovertook me under the awning, what odds? I had passedmore than one hot night in the region of the MalaccaStraits and Singapore, sleeping on deck.

Besides, I wanted to think.

Several hours passed, and there I still lounged, puffingdrowsily at my fourth cigar, while the prominent eventsof the past two years were hurriedly recalled.

Thus I was sitting when two bells struck; my cigar hadgone out and fallen to the deck, and I had about reachedthe point where the mind begins to yield the battle withthe sleep god, when something like a sigh caught myear—a sigh accompanied by a rustle of garments; and asI detected the presence of a delicate perfume I knew onlytoo well (her favorite), I raised my head and discovereda figure leaning over the rail of the yacht close by.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE MOCKERY OF FATE.

It did not require more than that one glance to declarethe identity of this figure.

It was Hildegarde.

She stood not more than six feet away—my back was towardher, and as the space under the canopy could notboast of any too much light, evidently she had no suspicion[Pg 106]of my presence. I did not move at once, but satthere feasting my eyes upon her.

She looked over the sea—somewhere in that directionlay the tropical land of Bolivar, whence we had just sailed.

Did she know that?—was her gaze bent in that quarterwith anything like regret?—could she have left any onethere about whom she felt concern?

That sigh—was it meant for grief or satisfaction? Inshort, had I after all done her as great a service as Ithought in carrying her away from the disturbed town ofBolivar?

Ah! another sigh.

Plainly she was not wholly happy.

My heart reproached me—I had been the cause of hermisery—I who had allowed my pride to force me into anact that separated two hearts intended for each other.

Was it too late to make amends?

I arose from my seat and moved toward her, and hearingme she turned quickly.

“Hildegarde!” I said, softly.

She started back.

“I thought you—all must be asleep; it was so warmbelow, I could not rest, and I felt I must come where Icould get the air,” she said, quickly, as though desirous ofhaving me believe it was not her intention to seek me.

“I am glad you did—I had quite made up my mind todoze here in a chair. It is very pleasant; but the sea airgrows cool and you have no wrap—let me get you something.”

Without waiting to hear her reply I darted into thecabin; one of the first things that caught my eye was adelicate pink thing in zephyr wool—Diana had tossed itaside when entering—it would just fill the bill.

I snatched it up and ran out.

[Pg 107]

The prospect of a tête-à-tête with Hildegarde affectedme strangely; I was even weak with excitement and hope.

Who could tell what it might not bring forth.

I resolved to be very considerate, yet seek for light regardingher presence in Bolivar.

There was one ghost I wanted laid before throwingmyself on her mercy.

When I reached her again she was sitting in the chairI had just vacated, which I took to be a favorable symptom—atleast she would not permit her hatred for me tostand in the way of a little talk that might clear the air.

I placed the light wrap about her, wondering meanwhilewhy she shivered.

“You have already taken cold,” I said.

“Oh, no, it was not that,” she replied.

Then it must have been my touch—was it so very repulsive?I thought, in dismay.

Dolt that I was not to see the fault lay in the soft,clinging thing I had thrown around her shoulders—thatshe shuddered because she seemed to guess intuitively itbelonged to Diana.

But in such matters men are usually so very stupid.

I stood there leaning against the rail, because it pleasedme to look upon her thus, and perhaps she would not careto have me sit down beside her.

An awkward silence followed.

“Why do you not smoke, Morgan?” she asked.

Even a little thing like that pleased me; she had notforgotten that I had always been devoted to the weed.

I hastened to assure her that I had no desire to indulge,since I had been smoking nearly the whole evening.

How could I break the ice, how ask her to tell me whatshe had promised—the story of her coming to this regionof the world?

What a strange position to be in! Three feet from me[Pg 108]sat the woman I loved, the woman whom the law hadgiven to me for my own, and whom I had called by thesacred name of wife, yet I dared not put out a hand totouch her any more than if she were the veriest stranger.

Secretly I chafed and fretted at the chains that heldme, and in my heart I groaned.

Hildegarde it was who spoke first.

“How long had you been in Bolivar, Morgan?” sheasked, showing that her thoughts had been going back towhat we had endured.

“Just four days. I had intended sailing by to-morrow,but the steamer came ahead of time.”

She did not ask what the steamer had to do with mymovements—nor did I think to insist on explaining thatpoint, which would no doubt have proved the part ofwisdom.

“Four days—and I was there ten,” she said, as thoughreflecting.

“Ten—in the house of the alcalde?” I asked, determinedto pursue the subject.

“Yes; always in that house,” with a shudder.

“They kept you there against your will?”

“Until you came—yes. At first I defied them, but myspirit was slowly breaking down, and because of thethreats they made, threats that concerned others besidesmyself, I must soon have yielded.”

I began to feel my blood boiling. Who was it dared tothreaten her?—who had any right to demand that she dothis or that? Since I had released her from her vowswhat man on earth had any authority over her?

What was it made me suddenly gasp and cringe asthough a bucket of ice water had been dashed over me?What but a flash of memory, as that hated photographagain played the deuce with my nerves? Some other manmight indeed have the rights I had chosen to discard.

[Pg 109]

I had a little struggle with myself, and managed to gainthe mastery over this weakness. If my hand trembled asI mechanically passed it over my head, it did not affectmy voice.

“I don’t know that I have any right to ask you to tellme all about this affair, Hildegarde—I forfeited thatprivilege long ago; but you must understand that I havedone what I could while utterly in the dark, and if youthink it worth while to enlighten me, I should be glad tohear the solution of the mystery, and equally glad to go toany length to serve you further.”

That was not a speech from the heart, but rather onedictated by reason and prudence.

Pride was not yet dead.

I could not let her know that I loved her more madlythan in the days of our courtship—loved her as might aman who had suffered all the pangs of outrageous fortune,always like his sex, loath to find the cause in himself.No, I would not demean myself to tell her what awretch I had discovered myself to be, and how my hearthungered for her, until I knew whether some other manstood between us.

There had been several—one I remembered in particular,who had been hard set to win her in those days, afellow who had given me many a twinge of jealousy byhis boasts, until finally I dared put my fate to the test anddiscovered how I had been fighting phantoms. If it werehe now, what agony, what punishment would be mine!

“You are kind, Morgan. You have done much for meto-night. Sometimes I am glad, and then again it makesme sad, and I even wish you had left me there to struggleagainst my fate, or that it had been some one else whocame, a perfect stranger, whom I might reward with goldfor serving me,” she said, sadly, almost brokenly.

I did not fancy that—it seemed to take the conceit out[Pg 110]of me; plainly I must have been mistaken when I thoughtshe still cared for me.

She would rather it were a stranger to whom she owedher escape—she did not fancy being under obligations tome of all men—surely that was enough to cool me off.

“I hope you won’t trouble yourself about the rewardpart—you can give me nothing I would care a snap for,except, of course, your gratitude. Men of my stamp don’tdo these things for reward, Hildegarde.”

She looked up at me, as though trying to weigh themeaning of my words.

“You are much changed, Morgan,” she said, slowly.

“Naturally so. I have led a misanthropic life for somelittle time. Things don’t look rosy through smokedglasses.”

“I didn’t mean that, but you are not the same as then—whatyou have done to-night—how you carried methrough the streets and stood up in that boat—I can neverforget it. Yes,” with a sigh, “you are much changed.”

A thrill of exultation possessed me at this declarationthat I had appeared in her eyes as at least a mild type ofa hero—and then it was gone again.

“Pardon me; I am not changed so much as you mayimagine; it was the same man then, only no opportunityarose to put him to the test. When once you dared me toget you some flowers growing on the face of a precipice,and I firmly declined, it was not cowardice that influencedme, but a determination not to risk my life for a prettywoman’s mere whim, even if she did happen to be mywife.”

There was a low cry, almost a sob.

“I have never forgiven myself for such wickedness,”she murmured, but it was music to me, that late confession.

“Well, I have,” I said, nonchalantly, as if all those[Pg 111]things in the past had very little interest for me anylonger.

She had started up somewhat eagerly in her chair, butimmediately sank back.

“It is kind of you to forgive, even if you cannot forget,”she said.

I was on the point of bursting out and declaring whata sinner I was, and how I yearned for absolution on herpart—to throw myself on the mercy of the court, pleadingguilty to the charge, when she spoke again, and what shesaid rather took the wind out of my sails.

“I promised to explain in a brief way how I came tobe in Bolivar, and why I was kept a prisoner in thealcalde’s house. This I should have told you to-morrowor before you landed me at New Orleans; but since wehave been thrown together here, and sleep is impossible, Ishall relate it now, so that you may know how basely oneof your boasted sex has acted toward a defenseless womanwho loaded him with favors, and for whom she had onlyshown affection.”

I snapped my teeth shut and ground them together.Then it was as I feared—she had married again, perhapsmy old rival, Hilary Tempest, and he had turned out avillain.

I do not know why I should be so furious, since I hadrenounced all alliance with her, and my taking up cudgelsin her defense would be Quixotic indeed; but there it was,the glow of righteous indignation. I had once loved herdearly, and no matter who he might be, the man whoabused her in any way must settle with Morgan Kenneth.

But what folly to thus arrange matters when I had notas yet heard her tell the story that was to decide my fate.

[Pg 112]

CHAPTER XIX.

“POOR, WEAK, OLD PAPA.”

Hildegarde remained silent for a short time.

I knew she must be collecting her thoughts for the tellingof a story coherently, and such a story as she meantto narrate was no small thing. Then she began.

There was something very like a tremor in her voice attimes, which I took to be a favorable sign; surelymemories of the past could not shake her like this if heraffection had been wholly turned to hate.

“Perhaps there is nothing very new or novel in mystory, Morgan; other women have placed their faith inman and been deceived; but to me it comes home withadditional cruelty, because I had done so much for him—fewcould have done more. In return he entered into aconspiracy with the alcalde to force me into a total deliveryof all I had left of—of what you gave me.”

Now, I cared mighty little about the money part of thebusiness; I had found chances for investment during mywanderings that had already doubled my fortune, with apromise of even greater things; for, strange as it mayseem, Fortune often showers golden favors upon thosewho are so wretched, otherwise, that they scorn the favor.

But the base ingratitude of the thing made me grindmy teeth.

“Then he is a contemptible villain, just as I alwaysthought, and ought to be tarred and feathered,” I said,impulsively.

She looked up at me quickly.

“I did not know that you ever said that.”

“Nonsense! I must have declared my instinctive dislikeof the man a dozen times or more; but let that pass.[Pg 113]After all, you cared for him, it seems, enough to—to givehim a right to assume a protectorate,” for I could not, hadmy life depended on it, say outright “to be his wife,” Ihated him so.

“Yes, because I was foolish enough to believe in him,and I felt so very lonely. He never disclosed his realcharacter until we made this journey to Bolivar, where hehad some interests in mines that needed personal attention;then I found the claws under the velvet, and realizedthat I had been terribly deceived.”

I knew now she was lost to me as the wife of anotherman, and steadied my nerves to meet the situation manfully,since I must act the friendly counselor to her.

If my ugly feeling toward Hilary Tempest now andagain broke all bounds, it was excusable under the circumstances;but, on the whole, I think I controlled myselfcreditably.

“I don’t believe he ever owned a mine in Bolivar—hemust have been there before to know the rascally alcalde,and it was all a big scheme to take you to a place whereno law could intervene. Well, I’m very glad fortune allowedme to have a hand in the game, which, I suppose, isknocked into a cocked hat by your escape. It is a strangething, without a doubt, and I give you my word I shallhave a bone to pick with him if ever we chance to meet; Idon’t care whether it is on Broadway or Piccadilly, I’mgoing to knock that rascal down.”

She gave a low cry.

“No, you mustn’t do that, Morgan.”

“But he has abused you?”

“He never offered me personal violence—oh, believethat. It was my money he was determined to have—heworships money.”

“Well, he kept you a prisoner against your will—he is[Pg 114]the greatest villain unhung; and I mean to have satisfactionout of his accursed hide some day.”

Again she gave a cry—somehow it hurt me, as thougha marlin spike had been dropped upon my batteredcranium.

“See here, do you mean to tell me you still care forthat detestable wretch?”

I demanded this in a hoarse whisper, at the same timebending forward and placing a hand on the arm of herrattan chair.

Strange as it may appear, the possibility that she couldstill cling to Tempest after he had acted the villain,aroused me more than anything else—cling to him whileshe hated me, and yet when I left her I had surroundedher with every luxury wealth could buy.

It only made me realize more than ever that womankindwas a mystery past the solving by a masculine mind. Hervery silence confirmed my fears.

This fellow had not only stolen the wife I had in myfolly given up, but, worse still, he appeared to have an influenceupon her my personality had never been able toaffect.

“Tell me,” I said, firmly, “do you care for him still—ishe, contemptible as he has shown himself, an object of interestto you?”

My masterful manner forced her to answer.

“In a measure, yes. I cannot help it—he came whenI was heartbroken; he soothed me when I was wretched;he made himself indispensible; what could I do with noone to advise me?”

That was a slap at me, and I winced under it. Ofcourse, no matter what a fool she had made of herself, Iwas to blame for it all—I, who had gone away in hottemper and left her so much money that she must be abait to such an adventurer.

[Pg 115]

I cooled down—reproaches were useless, since the mischiefhad been done, and laments never mended a brokenpitcher.

“Yes, I can easily understand how very assiduous hemust have been; it was rare good picking for him, andwhat glorious revenge upon me. How he must havegloated over it! Surely he laughs best who laughs last—butthe end is not yet.”

Again she looked at me steadily, as though my facecould betray aught in the semi-darkness that rested underthe awning.

“I don’t quite understand what you say about revengeand all that, Morgan. But you asked me to explain howI came to be away down in this warm climate, and heldagainst my will in the house of the alcalde, and althoughI am a wretched story teller, I am trying to give you thefacts.”

“Yes, it is all plain enough to me now—you could notput it clearer if you talked until dawn, or with the tonguesof prophecy. I am glad it is all over, and that your troublesare ended. I hope he will never show up again toannoy you when I am at the other side of the world.”

“Are you—contemplating such a very extended cruise,then?”

“To the Mediterranean and the Holy Land. I neverthoroughly did the Nile, and it is a grand place for awinter’s cruise.”

She sat silent again.

I would have given much to have known what herthoughts were.

“Yes, Egypt is a very lovely country in the winter forthose who have the heart to enjoy it. I trust you will landme as soon as possible at the first American port youdraw near. I shall go back to my old life—go back toThornycroft.”

[Pg 116]

How that name thrilled me.

It was our home, the country seat I had purchased, andwhere we had once been more or less happy—when I fled,I had left papers making it over to her.

“Then you still own the old place?” I asked, with assumedcarelessness, not desiring to show the keen interestI felt.

“Why, certainly; you did not think I had sold that—thatdear old place?”

“Well, I didn’t know—associations are sometimes painful,even distasteful, when one assumes new obligations.”

“But you—your tastes are the same—I have seen it inmany things, even the shade of color in the hangings youused to like.”

Could she guess it was my choice because she had alwaysraved over old gold and crushed strawberry, at onetime all the fashion?

“I do not change,” I said, quite grandiloquently.

She sighed—doubtless she believed she had good reasonto think otherwise.

We remained for some little time silent, each engrossedin deep thought.

Following out the train of thought that was passingthrough my head, I muttered, finally:

“It was very strange.”

“What is it you refer to, Morgan?” she asked, idly, herhands clasping and unclasping as they lay in her lap.

I saw a plain gold band on the third finger of her lefthand—a wedding ring, perhaps put there in place of mine.

“To think I should not have seen that fellow at thealcalde’s, or heard his voice, which I could have toldamong a thousand.”

“Why, Morgan, how you astonish me—how can it bepossible you remember these things when——”

She had started up now, and we faced each other. Boiling[Pg 117]with indignation, I could restrain myself no longer—thepent-up volcano broke beyond bound, and almost beforeI knew what I was doing I had started in to vent myill-humor on the dog that had stolen my bone.

“Remember! How can I ever forget? In those dayslong ago didn’t that fellow with his mocking, handsomeface always stir the green-eyed monster in my heart?Haven’t I groaned many a time when afloat to think withwhat ghoulish glee he said to me at my wedding, ‘Nevermind, he laughs best who laughs last;’ and how I’ve hatedhim all these months God only knows. Don’t you think Icould pick him out among ten thousand and know hiscold-blooded laugh if I heard it in the blackness of adungeon. I tell you hate has eyes and ears, where othersenses might be blind and deaf. So I say it was verystrange I didn’t discover him at the alcalde’s; we mighthave had it out then and there, instead of putting it offfor the future.”

“Morgan,” she exclaimed, jumping up with a flutter ofgarments, and an eagerness that was not assumed, “tellme, who is it you think I have been speaking about, thisman you hate and mean to fight—tell me, sir, at once.”

There was a touch of the old-time despotism in hermanner, but I paid little heed to that.

“There is but one man on earth who could cause meto make such a fool of myself, and his name is—HilaryTempest.”

There, I had uttered it now—hurled the bomb that wasto create such consternation.

It did produce remarkable results, although hardly ofthe nature I had expected.

Hildegarde uttered a sound—really it was very like alittle laugh.

She had drawn my teeth; she knew my weakness, knew[Pg 118]that I still cared for her—and she laughed at me, mockedme.

It was exasperatingly humiliating.

“Oh, Morgan, how could you believe that—that? Why,Hilary Tempest is still paying attention to that Millerheiress. People say he is waiting for her to get oldenough to be married.”

I gasped for breath, but the relief was, after all, onlymomentary.

“Then—it’s some other man; even if I don’t know him,I hate him all the same, and he shall answer to me forbeing a brute,” I declared, savagely.

“No, no, you must not—I forbid it, Morgan. Let thepast be forgotten—I shall never see poor papa again, Isolemnly promise you.”

“Who?” I almost shouted.

“Why, Morgan, you frighten me. It was papa—youknow we thought him dead—he ran away, oh, ever somany years ago with a bold, bad woman, and mammaburied him—but he found me out, and I was so lonely Iforgave him and loved him. That is all—he deceived me,poor, weak old papa.”

CHAPTER XX.

I TRY TO BRIDGE THE CHASM.

There sometimes come momentous epochs in the livesof men when it seems difficult to believe they are notdreaming.

Such a dazzling event had come to pass in my own experience.

[Pg 119]

I was not prepared for the shock—it was so entirelyunexpected that my faculties seemed benumbed for thetime being.

All but my brain—I could still think, although the onerefrain that danced with many changes through my mindseemed to be:

“Hildegarde did not marry again—Hildegarde mayeven yet be my wife! Joy! joy! my wife, my Hildegarde!”

Her father—yes, I remembered now how conscientousshe had been upon that matter, and insisted that beforeour marriage I should know how the old reprobate hadbrought a certain stigma of disgrace upon his family byeloping with a pretty widow who had fascinated him, andhe a parson at that.

At the time I had treated the matter with the contemptit deserved, and stopped the sad tale by kissing the prettymouth that endeavored to tell it. I was marrying Hildegarde,and not the old sinner who had proven too weakfor his vows.

So he had popped up again, and had coaxed much ofher fortune away; he had even shown his despicablenature by conspiring to rob his child of the remainder.

Undoubtedly he was as great a scamp as ever went unhung,and no punishment could be too severe for him;but, strange to say, I actually felt a softness toward thereverend fraud, for surely he was a vast improvement overthe fascinating Hilary Tempest, the phantom that hadlong pursued me.

Hope—that shuttlecock of human souls—again soaredupward.

Really, the atmosphere had cleared remarkably. Ifthere was no other man in the case, why should I not bydegrees win Hildegarde again? All the powers of earthand hell should not, must not, prevail against me.

[Pg 120]

I had made a beginning—already had she been forcedto declare I was not like the man she believed she knewin the past.

Other steps might be taken to prove my worthiness, andhow bitterly I repented ever having left her.

Why, the earth was not a desert at all; she might evenconsent to forgive—to go with me to the Mediterranean,to the dreamy land of the lotus, and there, along the historicNile, we could coo and make love like a pair of fondturtledoves.

What a blessed vision!

Let Hilary Tempest rest—he had my best wishes tosecure the heiress; I wished him joy, so long as his wifewas other than my Hildegarde.

“What do you think of me, Hildegarde?” I managedto say, at length.

She would not look at me, much as I desired to see herface.

“It was a strange mistake,” she murmured.

“And yet you must admit, most natural. By accident—Ican’t think it was design—you gave me no clew—youonly said some man whom you loved and had trusted haddeceived you—everything appeared to point to him. Oncehe was very attentive to you—how was I to know butthat you had freed yourself from me and married again?”

“Some women would have done so.”

“That is true.”

“Would it—could you have blamed me?”

I swallowed a lump in my throat.

“No. It would have served me right. I was a fool, adolt!” I said, bitterly, leaning over the rail in a dejectedmanner.

Perhaps I fondly hoped she might find it in her heartto forgive me then and there—perhaps I was even foolenough to think a pair of soft, clinging arms might come[Pg 121]stealing around my neck as of yore. Ye gods! how Iwould have turned and taken her in my arms and crushedher to my heart, for I was hungry with love toward thisdainty woman who had controlled my past, and, as I nowknew full well, must direct my future until death came.

But she made no move to do such a thing. Indeed, shehad become reserved, as though afraid she might overstepsome line that had been marked out for observance.

There was a dignity, a womanly pride about her thatchilled my ardor.

Evidently I had not yet been able to atone for my misdeeds;my penance must continue indefinitely.

“I have often thought we were both very headstrongin those days, Morgan. You have suffered remorse nomore than I. Perhaps it was right we separated, since wefailed to come up to each other’s ideals. But it is folly tolament over what is past. We shall go our ways—I willnot intrude upon your good nature longer than is necessary,and shall keep to my room always.”

This was said with severe firmness. I took it to meanshe did not care to meet Thorpe and his wife, to experiencetheir sympathy and satisfy the natural curiosityDiana must show.

It was that and more—much more than a simple mancould understand.

“Don’t say ‘intrude,’ Hildegarde. You pain me whenyou speak in that way. I would give all I possess to proveto you how keenly I regret the past. I have never knownpeace of mind since,” I said, earnestly.

“Men find a solace that is denied poor women—traveland congenial company may cure the worst case of melancholyand remorse. But I am not going to reproach you,Morgan, God knows. The past is gone, never to return.I resolutely forbid myself to think of it.”

“But, Hildegarde, is it utterly impossible to make[Pg 122]amends? I am ready to prove to you that though I gaveyou up in a nasty bit of passion, I have never ceased tolove you—that in every way I have endeavored to forgetI could not. Is it your will that we go our separate waysagain and see each other no more? This time the decisionrests upon you. God give you the wisdom to decidearight.”

I awaited her answer as a man might who had stakedhis all on the turn of a card.

She evidently was struggling with desire, and it was aquestion whether heart would come out victor, or reason.

The verdict must be given.

She took one step toward me.

I even opened my arms, and my heart beat tumultuously;but, alas, the hour was not yet come.

I saw her move back, one hand pressing against herheart; what would I not have given for light just then—lightto reveal the love in her eyes!

“No, no, I could not trust you after this. And youmight regret again. Morgan, I shall not take you fromyour—your pleasures. It is better we should part. Forgetme, and be happy—as I—shall try—to be.”

She turned and left me, vanishing like a fair specter;but, although the verdict was against me, strange to say, Iwas not overwhelmed. Instead, I experienced a glow ofanimation, of holy fervor, so to speak; and leaning thereover the rail in the spot hallowed by her recent presence,I made a vow that since I knew she loved me still, noobstacle on the whole earth should prevent me from capturingthe citadel of her heart, and that the day and hourmust soon come when, resting in my arms, she would lookup into my eyes and tell me that in life or death she wasmine forevermore.

[Pg 123]

CHAPTER XXI.

IN THE GRASP OF A HURRICANE.

I smoked no more that night.

Somehow my nerves seemed to have become quiet toa degree that was most extraordinary.

It was the calm of confidence.

I seemed to know that the game rested in my hands,and that with a fair degree of good luck my market wasmade.

Looking back now I marvel that I found such peace—thatI could go to my little den and turning in, lose myselfin slumber.

It was as if I had reached harbor after two long yearsof tossing upon the stormy seas, and, utterly wearied, myframe sought sweet rest, when the knowledge came thatI was safe.

Hildegarde was still mine—she wore the ring I hadplaced upon her finger when I first called her by thatprecious name of wife, and my unworthy image stillreigned in her heart.

True, she seemed to see some species of barrier betweenus—I knew not what it could be, but was possessed of alusty determination to beat it down.

Nothing on earth should sever us—the old love hadsprung up again in my heart, only many times more fierce,and purified by the fire through which it had passed.

How I had deceived myself all these years, sneeringat womankind, and endeavoring to convince myself theywere one and all of the same frivolous species.

Now that the mask had been dropped, and I could seethings as they were, what a mockery this whole affair[Pg 124]appeared, and how penitently I admitted to myself that itwas not true.

Paradise may rest within a pair of laughing blue eyes,when lighted by the holy fires of love.

Yes, I slept, and my dreams were sweeter than formany a long night.

It matters not of what they consisted—those who havefound their destiny wrapped up in the life of a womanmay easily guess.

I had not endeavored to lay out any elaborate plan ofcampaign—she must be on board the yacht for somedays, if not weeks, and I was confident of my ability toplead my cause in that time so successfully that capitulationand peace must follow.

Perhaps it was just as well; since, after all, I was tohave the manipulation of affairs taken almost wholly outof my hands.

When I awoke it was with a start.

The vessel was plunging very much after the mannerof a fiery war horse upon feeling the cruel barb of thespurs.

It took me several minutes to collect my scatteredsenses; I had gone to sleep under dreamy, starry skies,with the soft, sensuous breath of the tropic sea around me,and now to awaken with the shrill, piercing gale shriekingthrough the rigging, and the yacht plunging headlonginto watery valleys that threatened her with destruction,was a change indeed quite sufficient to stagger one.

I crawled out.

It required considerable agility to dress under such unsteadyconditions, and I received more than one bruisefrom contact with the sides of my narrow quarters.

During my ownership of the yacht I had cruised in hertens of thousands of miles in every sea known upon theface of the globe—I had been caught in quite a good[Pg 125]many violent gales, and even experienced a fierce typhoonin the treacherous China Sea.

Really, I could not remember any storm that had sprungupon us with greater suddenness and fiercer opening thanthis. Why had not the barometer given warning? Perhapsit had to some extent, but our departure from theharbor of Bolivar had been so hasty that even the prospectof a hurricane could not have held us.

And for the first time I felt fear.

Why was this? Experience is supposed to make menhardened; familiarity breeds contempt; and yet I actuallytrembled when the sturdy little vessel made an extraordinarilyfierce plunge downward, filled with the dreadthat she would be overwhelmed and never rise again.

Why, I never could remember feeling this way before.A wild storm had seemed to arouse all the daring elementsof my nature, until I could tie myself on deck andshout with the shrieking wind, actually mocking the curling,foam-crested breakers, as Ajax might have defied thelightning.

And now I trembled.

Ah! the secret was not hard to discover.

I was no longer the reckless rover, with a memory todrown; I had something to live for now, and life showeda rosy tint.

Besides, I was concerned, not on account of myself, butfor the precious one who was my guest—for Hildegarde.

When I made my way on deck I found that a wonderfultransformation had taken place in those few hours.

Where I had sat and dreamed, and where she hadcome to me in the still watches of the night, like a spiritfrom another world, no man could stay and live—the awninghad been stowed away, the easy-chairs put below inthe cabin, and now the deck was reeking with spumeblown from the monstrous waves that rushed on high[Pg 126]around us, as if eager to swallow the boat that seemed solike a cork on the angry sea.

I was greatly impressed by the sight, which was certainlywild enough to please the most ardent lover ofstormy scenery.

Once I had been inclined that way, but now a peacefulcalm would have satisfied me better.

The first person discovered was Robbins.

He had secured himself with a twist of rope, and waswatching the behavior of the yacht.

Accustomed as he was to an entirely different class ofvessel, I could see even in the gray light of early morningthat my old friend looked worried.

He had a poor opinion of the quality of resistance in awell-made little yacht.

I managed to get near him, when a wave that washedacross the deck threatened to carry me over the side,only that Robbins’ strong hand grasped my arm and gaveme assistance until I, too, had the use of his rope.

Conversation was difficult in the midst of such confusionand deafening clamor; we were compelled toshout in order to be heard.

I assured Robbins I had passed through as bad blowsas this without material damage, and that unless somewretched accident happened, there was no reason why weshould not come out safely.

Cummings hove in sight.

He looked dreadfully anxious, for this was the firsttime he had been in full charge of the boat in a storm;our captain had always managed everything before.

Still, Cummings knew his business, and was hardly theman to get rattled.

I told him he must do whatever he considered safest,regardless of any plans we might have made on theprevious night, even if it was to run once more for the[Pg 127]snug harbor of Bolivar, where we could laugh at the hurricane;and that if we needed any help to call upon Robbins,who was ready and willing to stand by.

Perhaps my faith in him gave Cummings a little moreconfidence; he affirmed what I already suspected, that ourcourse had been changed some time before to meet thefury of the storm, and that we were working our way tothe north as near as he could hit it.

It was best, he said, to keep clear of the coast, whichwas always treacherous; we would be wiser to take ourchances out in the open sea; and Robbins earnestly coincidedwith this sailor-like declaration.

When the two of them started for the wheelhouse toconsult the charts and find where the present course wasapt to bring us, I remembered those below.

Wet almost to the skin, I made my way into the cabin.

Thorpe met me eagerly.

He no longer looked the fop—a sort of terror gleamedin his eyes, for which he might easily be excused, sincehe was not much of a sailor, and the awful convulsions ofthe yacht were enough to arouse alarm in the bravestheart.

But I knew there was something of the true metal inhis constitution, which would come to the surface, nowthat one he loved was placed in peril of her life.

“This is awful, Kenneth!” he exclaimed, as he seizedhold of me. “Why, you’re as wet as a drowned rat!Have you been overboard, man?”

I hastened to assure him in the negative, and explainedthat the seas occasionally washed the deck, which wouldsave my men the labor.

“What d’ye call this?” he demanded.

I said it was a little blow, possibly a norther, such assweeps over the Gulf of Mexico at this season of theyear.

[Pg 128]

“You mean a hurricane,” he insisted.

It was neither the time nor place to explain the vastdifference, nor indeed could I see that it mattered in theleast, if the storm possessed all the violent energies ofone of those twisters that in August come whirling outof their nursery among the Windward Islands, ravagethe West Indies, knock Galveston into splinters, and travelup the Mississippi Valley, to eventually sweep out to seaoff the Newfoundland Banks, everywhere carrying deathand destruction in their wake. Storms at sea are prettymuch alike to the average mind, when they possess all theattributes of grim destruction.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE HOUR OF PERIL.

I am positive that was the first time in my life I everexerted myself so forcibly upon the panel of a door toattract the attention of the occupant, a guest on board myboat; but surely the conditions warranted such an expenditureof muscular power, for with the howling of the wind,the creaking of bulkheads, and all woodwork about theboat, together with the mighty roar of the billows thatcaused the yacht to stagger like a drunken thing, therewas almost as much commotion in the air as during a battle,and ordinary sounds could not be heard at all.

My summons were at once heeded, for immediately thedoor opened.

Hildegarde, fully dressed, stood there.

She was deathly pale, but, to my infinite satisfaction,exhibited none of the hysterical emotions which Dianahad shown, and which were in their way apt to demoralizethe strongest man.

No matter what peril faced us, she would be brave—Ihad never before seen her face to face with deadly danger,and this unsuspected but very welcome phase of hernature gratified me immensely. I stepped inside, becausetalking, unless at very close range, was very difficult.

There was no need of reassuring her—words wouldhave been useless.

In answer to her questions I told her that the stormwas unusually severe, but the yacht had passed throughmany fully as bad, and there was no reason to expect adifferent result on the present occasion, though it was alwaysthe part of wisdom to be prepared for the worst.

“Yes, we are in God’s hands, Morgan,” she said, and[Pg 131]I felt as though drawn nearer to Heaven by such sublimefaith as this.

Strange what thoughts will flash athwart the mind evenwhen on the brink of eternity.

Standing there and looking in her heavenly eyes, nowfilled with such womanly fear, I wondered what fate hadin store for us—we who had separated through pique andbeen brought together again in this wonderful, this almostmiraculous manner.

Could it be that just as I was about to claim Paradiseagain, it would be but to die with this loved one in myarms; or would a kinder fate allow us to live through thehorror of storm and wreck, saved for each other as by amiracle.

As Hildegarde so gravely said, only God knew.

She called my attention to the child, who had becomevery ill from the violent motion of the plunging boat.

There was no relief at such a time, though I felt sorryfor little Carmencita—her affection for Hildegarde endearedher to me, and I spoke a few words to cheer heras she lay there, ghastly yellow, her great black eyes seemingto almost start out of her head with mingled nauseaand fright.

“We will try and have some breakfast, though it mustbe a cold one,” I said, knowing the cook, if able to standon his pins at all, which was doubtful, would never get afire started.

She shook her head as if to declare she had no appetite;but I felt it was wise to force ourselves to eat something,since the time might be close at hand when we would needall the strength we could muster.

I busied myself about this; there are times when a littlework serves to dissipate the awful chill of despair.

Diana had changed her mood, or at least it seemed tohave reached another stage—her whole appearance indicated[Pg 132]hopelessness, and she turned with loathing fromthe wine and biscuit I offered—I believe she hated me becauseI had, with the heartiest intentions in the world,invited them to join me on a winter cruise.

Gustavus accepted gladly, evidently feeling the need ofsome staying quality inside; if the worst came, I knewI could depend upon him to do all that lay in the powerof a man for his wife, and the result must rest in higherhands than ours.

I ate more to encourage Hildegarde than because Ihad any desire for food; indeed, who could feel hungrywhile the awful churning motion of the vessel continued;and we were fearful with each dip that our time hadcome?

I would have given much to have reassured Hildegarde,to have told her how my heart was filled with a yearninglove for her in this dread hour of peril; but that musthave consumed words, and the circumstances were againstspeech.

I did take her hand on leaving, and looking in her eyes,managed to say:

“Keep up a brave heart, and pray for us all, Hildegarde.You can depend upon me at the worst—always rememberthat I live or die with you.”

Such a strange look she gave me—I could not fathomits meaning; there was yearning in it, and at the same timedistrust. The barrier had not yet been removed, in spiteof my service in her behalf.

That was no time to worry over such things, with lifeand death hanging in the balance.

All through the wretched morning the yacht laboredheavily in the grasp of the wild tempest.

Surely such a fearful gale had not visited the greatgulf at this season for years.

Many times hope was dashed down and despair took[Pg 133]its place, as some unusually drastic punishment was dealtout to the struggling yacht, and the danger seemed ata grand climax.

Again and again we won out by a bare neck, as it were,and as the day wore on I began to think we might fightthe gale to a successful conclusion.

I believe I lived years in that morning, and that grayhairs would mark the experience, such was the awfulstrain on our nerves.

We were doing all we could, and the result rested inthe Providence that watched over us.

So eight bells found us.

I hunted up Robbins to get his opinion, and learningthat he was in the wheelhouse, watched my opportunity,scurried across the wet deck ankle deep in water that couldnot escape fast enough, and managed to dash into shelterjust before another billow broke over us.

Cummings and Karl Wagner were also there, and hardpressed to keep a course.

They complained of the compass, and declared it actedas unsteady as during a magnetic storm.

It had never played us any tricks before, but had alwaysbeen perfectly reliable.

If we got off our course, the consequences might bedisastrous. Ugh! I had no desire to even think of that,remembering what a cruel and treacherous stretch of coastextended along the border of Bolivar.

We talked matters over.

It was anything but bright, the outlook.

The barometer had gone down abnormally low, thereading being almost at twenty-eight, which proclaimedthat we had not yet passed the apex or crown of the storm,which, in a hurricane, is called the core or center of disturbance.

Could we stand more of it, and worse?

[Pg 134]

I felt a cold chill chase up and down my spinal column;the grim specter grew more positive. We were facing agrave peril, and the chances seemed against us.

Robbins was the man for the hour—Robbins, whoseemed to know just what should be done, and whosevaliant spirit could never be daunted by the fiercest stormthat ever blew in this hurricane sea.

I rejoiced to think what a lucky chance sent him my waywhen I wandered amid the flower-strewn calles ofBolivar; he might yet prove the rock of our salvation.

All had been done that was possible, and, while stouthearts tried to hold the course, we could only await theresult.

About two o’clock the scene was at its worst.

I never expect to look upon the like again, and even atthis distant day I am apt to feel a shudder at the recollectionof it all.

Still, we kept our head up in the teeth of the gale,though how fast we were being washed to leeward, andtoward the coast, none among us could even hazard aguess.

Then a gleam of hope came—the mercury was beginningto rise—the worst had been passed.

So night found us tossing almost helplessly on thosemountainous seas, but with some reason to believe wemight be saved.

The cook, after infinite trouble, managed to get us a potof tea, and with this we made out to have an indifferentmeal.

Diana still remained in her room and refused to let herhusband leave her, so I served them there as best I could.

Poor girl, she was a wreck; no one would recognize thedashing belle in this wild-eyed, hysterical creature, withhalf a dozen cork life-preservers tied about her, ready to[Pg 135]start up with a scream whenever our stanch little oceansteed plunged down a comber.

Hildegarde, still pale, was a wonderful contrast, and myheart grew proud of her.

She ate composedly, and it was a strange meal we satdown to; never had I expected to sit in her presence again,and see her hands pour out the tea. What if half of itwas spilled, the charm was there just the same.

And my spirits arose; hope began to weave its subtlecords about my heart.

Sharp contrasts exist in this world—Paradise actuallyborders upon the fields of woe.

Just as I was feeling a warmth in the region of myheart, and picking up new courage in her presence, therewas a sudden, tremendous crash, a dreadful quiverthroughout the yacht, and our forward rush came to asudden end.

I knew what the dreadful catastrophe meant—thecoast was on our lee, and we had struck a reef!

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE WRECK OF THE YACHT.

It is a dreadful thing to have the honeyed chalicedashed from one’s lips just as he is about to drink thenectar.

I certainly never had such a rude shock in all my lifeas when that terrific crash sent a shudder through theyacht, and every one knew instinctively that the worsthad happened.

This was the beginning of the end.

[Pg 136]

There could no longer be felt that free movement totell us the vessel was running before the gale or evenrising with each billow.

Instead we experienced a peculiar shivering sensationover the whole fabric, which was accentuated with therush of each wave that beat up against her.

Hildegarde had half started from her seat, as white assnow—if there was terror in her azure eyes, it was mute.

Not so Diana, who shrieked as though crazed with fear;I could also hear the voice of Gustavus amid the chaoticconfusion, but whether he were endeavoring to calm hisfrenzied wife, or had lost his own head in the horror ofthe moment, it was impossible for me to guess.

I staggered to my feet.

The weight of monumental disaster appeared to beupon my shoulders.

Death was very near us all.

If the boat slipped off the rock upon which a giantbillow had mercilessly hurled her, the chances were shemust sink immediately, for from the horrible grindingnoise below I must believe a hole had been stove in herbottom large enough to overwhelm us.

On the other hand, if the force of the impact had beenso terrific as to plant the ill-fated yacht upon the reef sofirmly that she could not be washed over, then there was achance of her holding together for some hours—perhaps,Heaven alone knew, until daylight.

Between the bombardment of each wave we had abreathing spell, when words shouted at the top of thevoice could be heard.

I knew I must leave Hildegarde; it would only be fora brief time, but there was no escaping my duty to thoseothers who had stuck by their posts with such faithfulheroism.

First I sprang over to where many cork life-preservers[Pg 137]were kept in a rack especially prepared; Diana hadmonopolized the major portion of these, without any regardfor the rest of us—fright sees only personal dangerI am fain to believe—but luckily a couple remained, andthese I snatched up.

Back to Hildegarde I hurried.

She stood up and allowed me to fasten the cork andcanvas affair under her arms.

I felt her look of mute entreaty—so the gazelle mightgaze upon its executioner, but surely I had little of thepower of life and death in my hands, else gladly would Ihave exercised it in order to save us all.

One thing certain, I could not leave her without someexpression of hope.

Man is but an actor at best—the emotions sway himat their will.

For her sake, then, I crushed down the great fearthat kept tugging at my heart, and even attempted to lookas though our situation did not possess the horror of beingface to face with doom.

“We are fast on a reef—we may stay here for hours,even until morning. I do not believe the danger is imminent.Perhaps, God grant it, the sea may go down assuddenly as it arose, and leave us here safe. At the worst,I shall be with you. Be courageous—it will increase yourchances of safety. Do you understand, Hildegarde?”

Of course, I had to shout this.

She nodded her head.

I could see that she was a heroine, and even in thatdreadful hour my heart did her homage. Yes, I couldunderstand why she had always admired valor in man,why she had been so disappointed because in those olddays I refused to be a hero to please her.

Well, the time had come, and my hand was forcedthrough sheer necessity—I had proved that no coward[Pg 138]blood ran in my veins, though if we were doomed to diethus miserably, the advantage and triumph must be short-lived.

There was eagerness in her look now, and I could almostdeclare I saw the light of love there as she followedmy every motion.

“I must leave you for a short time—it is necessary thatI go on deck to see what damage has been wrought—toconfer with my poor fellows, if they have not alreadybeen swept overboard,” I continued.

The wave of fear that passed over her white face wasfor me.

“You will be careful, Morgan,” I heard her say, as abrief lull came.

Her trembling hand was on my arm, her eyes lookedinto mine, and if I had died for it the next moment, Icould not have refused the opportunity. Love laughs atstorm and wreck, yes, often at grim death itself.

So I snatched her to me—whether she resisted or not Ican hardly say, for I did not notice. I rained kisses uponher face, her hair, her lips, and then releasing her sprangaway.

When I glanced back I saw her standing there holdingon to the table and looking after me with an expressionI could never forget.

As I passed the partly open door of Thorpe’s stateroomI believed it my duty to say at least a few reassuringwords, for they evidently expected each minute to betheir last, and looked to see the cruel sea bursting in uponthem, eager for its victims.

Diana was about exhausted, and so I found a chanceto shout what had happened, and how much of a chancewe had.

Heaven knew it was slender enough in my mind, but[Pg 139]for a little deceit, a little of cheerfulness in a good cause,I might be forgiven.

Then I made for the deck.

It was a dreadful sight that met my eyes as I lookedforth.

The night was not inky dark, as I had expected; evenstars were to be seen overhead when the storm-rackedclouds parted here and there.

But the wind still howled, and the sea gave little promiseof abating its fury until morning.

Everywhere I looked there were the same tumbling,riotous waves, curling and hissing; while the windsnatched away their foamy masses, and hurled the spumethrough the air with all the stinging emphasis of hail.

It was impossible to see any distance from the spotwhere we were wedged upon the reef; consequently, althoughI might feel almost positive that the land must lieat no great distance to leeward, mortal eyes could not distinguishthe outlines of that shore until morning came,however wistfully they might be turned thither.

So far as I could tell, we were lodged securely enoughupon the rocks, and the chances of being washed off wereslender, unless some tidal wave, like the one that must havethrown us there, came along.

The question at issue was of another character, that affectedour future just as much—how long could the yachtstand this terrific hammering from the billows that brokeover her?

When she gave way it meant the end.

I had reason to rejoice over her unusual stability—shehad been known more as a sturdy sea craft than for anygreat speed, a vessel in which a man might meet thevicissitudes of the ocean without more fear than if abroadsome monster Atlantic liner.

This quality must serve us now—indeed, our lives depended[Pg 140]upon how long the yacht could hold out againstsuch constant battering.

Having comprehended our condition as well as such ahasty survey would allow, my next thought was of mycrew.

What had become of Robbins, Cummings and the rest?Were they forward somewhere, awaiting the end, or hadthe monster already seized them in his insatiable maw?

Even as I looked I saw a human figure stagger acrossthe deck, coming directly toward me; a wave floodedthe vessel more or less, but when it rolled away, amid thechurn of yeasty foam, the figure was still there, hangingto a rope.

Again he advanced, another wave broke, and this wasso much heavier than the first that I gave a faint cry ofalarm, confident that its tremendous force must have tornhim loose from his moorings, and carried him into themidst of that tumbling madness beyond.

But no, there the resolute fellow stood still, and withone more charge he reached the spot where I awaitedhim.

It was Robbins.

Wet as he was, I threw my arms around my old friendand shipmate. The presence of a man, and such a man,served to arouse new life.

Even the ceaseless howl of the storm seemed to losesome of its terror when I found myself in contact withhim, for the personality of a brave man may be a towerof strength in cases of emergency.

Only by shouting at the top of our voices could wemake ourselves heard out there.

“This is awful,” I said.

“A bad job, Morgan.”

“There is little hope?”

“She may hold out—it is a chance; but the sea must[Pg 141]go down very slowly. Be prepared for the worst—it maymean every soul,” with a quick look to leeward, as if calculatingwhat a miserable showing the stoutest manmight have in that awful whirl.

“What of the men?” I asked.

“Hardly know—I saw two carried away at the timewe struck.”

He did not tell me then that in endeavoring to save oneof them he came within an ace of also losing his hold;but such an act was characteristic of the man, and hecould not do less under any conditions.

“Cumming?” I shouted, filled with apprehension lesthe might have been one of them.

“Is forward in the wheelhouse—I’m afraid he’s hurt bybeing thrown down when we struck; but he’s a gameone.”

“We must get him here; at any moment that wheelhousemay be carried away. If there are others, tell themto come. It is a common danger we all face, and let thisbe no time for class distinction. A man is only a manwhen death hovers near.”

“I’ll go,” he said, readily enough.

Without another word he was about to leave me, whenI caught his arm.

“What can we do with the women?”

“Nothing but put the cork belts on ’em, and ask themto pray for us. If the vessel holds until morning we havea chance; if not—God receive our souls.”

Evidently my friend did not believe there was any hopefor the best of us, once the yacht broke and hurled us intothe clamorous sea; he was a sailor who knew what frightfulforces operate to strangle the boldest swimmer whenoverwhelmed by waves that battle against each other toheave and splash and whirl like the madness of Niagara’srapids.

[Pg 142]

CHAPTER XXIV.

A NIGHT OF TERROR.

After all, I had not received much genuine encouragementfrom Mate Robbins.

I knew his disposition of old, and had seen him makelight of many a danger that to me seemed fraught withgloom.

Apparently his nature had undergone somewhat of achange, or else the situation was materially worse thananything in his past.

This latter, which seemed to be the truth, was ratherappalling.

Still, I would not despair; I had found a new lease oflife in the hope that Hildegarde’s coming had aroused,and I would not give up until the very last gasp.

When Robbins had made another successful passageacross the deck, thanks to the rope that had been stretchedbetween cabin and wheelhouse, I thought to go belowagain.

The charm of Hildegarde’s presence drew me.

I was determined not to leave her again, for shouldthe worst come and death claim us, it would make thecrucial test less cruel if we could die together.

That, I take it, is the true mission of love, to soothe, toprotect, to save, if possible; but should all these fail, todie for or with the object of its soul’s worship.

Hildegarde was where I left her.

She had the child at her side, and was endeavoring tosoothe her, more by the caressing touch of her hands thanby words.

Her eyes were eagerly fastened upon the cabin door,[Pg 143]as if watching for me, and I saw a look of confidencesweep over her face when I staggered in.

My hour had come, but I could not glory in it withdoom so near at hand.

Should we live, she could never again believe me lackingin those sterling qualities that go to make the man—thankHeaven for that at least! and if we died, shewould with her last breath know that she was in my arms,that I had battled against overwhelming forces to saveher, and failing that I chose to share her fate rather thantry to win alone.

Sitting down near by I endeavored to tell her how mattersstood, and what a long night of horror it promisedto be.

There was no chance for conversation; the terribledin that almost deafened us prevented this, and kept aliveour most excited fancies.

Again and again I feared the vessel was moving, slidingoff the reef into the vortex of waters; and it requireda wonderful amount of self-control to prevent my tell-taleface from communicating these sudden shocks to thedear eyes that watched me so closely.

Presently Cummings came in.

The poor fellow had been hard hit—I could see thatonly his grit kept him up.

I at once brought him a bottle of liquor in the hopethat it might at least prove a temporary stimulant andbrace him up.

Between Cummings and myself there was a bond ofunusual sympathy; he mourned a good wife, while I, too,had up to now been bereft; many times we had talked together,and he had in a measure been my confidant, theonly soul to whom I had poured out the bitterness of abroken heart.

I saw him look curiously at Hildegarde, and while I[Pg 144]waited on him, I managed to put my mouth to his ear andsay:

“She is my wife, my Hildegarde—Heaven has seen fitto unite us, perhaps to let us atone for it all by dyingtogether. It is well, my friend.”

Then he squeezed my hand in his warm clasp.

“I rejoice with you, Morgan—perhaps the same kindHeaven means that I shall no longer be separated frommy angel Mary. I feel it somehow, that she is nearer tome this night than since the hour she died in these arms.It is as God wills—I am satisfied; without her, life is, atbest, a weariness to the flesh.”

Here spoke a stoic and a philosopher.

I confess I did not share in his views to any extent;why should I when life meant such a glorious vision tome, with Hildegarde to crown it?

Robbins had gone back for the rest, carrying out myplan that we keep together to meet the worst, whateverit might be.

I sincerely hoped he would be careful, for his loss wouldgive me a fearful shock, so much did I depend upon hispresence, this man who had met danger in every guise,and knew how to wring victory out of seeming defeat.

Diana cried out no more.

She had exhausted herself.

When one faces such terrors the long-continued strainis apt to bring about contempt from familiarity, or elseutter silence from a lack of ability to find further expression.

That was the poor girl’s case.

She had already experienced the terrors of a thousanddeaths, and when the real one came it would perhaps beless horrible than any of those that only existed in theimagination.

[Pg 145]

Well, we were not yet at the last gasp, and who couldsay what good luck might befall us?

I was bent on cheering them all I could.

The cook, poor fellow, had disappeared, nor did I everlearn what became of him; perhaps he was one of thoseRobbins saw carried away.

I made my way to his galley, and seized upon such foodas I could find amid the fearful confusion existing there.

The “fiddles” were on the table, those storm signalsmeant to keep the dishes from waltzing across the boardand into one’s lap, and so I managed to keep the viandsI fetched in something like order.

If we were destined to watch through the long anddreadful night, we might imbibe something of strength bysatisfying the inner man, for I have long since discoveredthat danger loses one-half its terror if faced on a fullstomach.

Another water-soaked sailor entered—one of the crew,whom I made at home and forced to partake of food anddrink.

By degrees they all assembled, seven, counting Robbins,who came last.

There were five missing, including the cook and poorKarl Wagner.

I shuddered when I thought of their fate, thought ofthat maddening abyss of foamy waters; but why shouldI waste any pity on the poor fellows when long ere nowthey were at peace, while we must face the worst.

How the minutes dragged.

And each hour was an eternity.

I looked at my watch again and again—why, surelyit must have stopped since it could not be only five meagerminutes since last I turned my eyes on its face; but holdingit to my ear I could hear its ticking still.

Midnight!

[Pg 146]

The wild alarum outside kept up with a terrible monotony—itwas like the devil’s tattoo, sounding our fatein ominous drum beats.

How long could steel and wood stand such a ceaseless,terrific hammering? Surely the little vessel must beslowly but positively going to pieces. The agony of thatnight passes comprehension—if I were to sit down andwrite volumes in the endeavor to tell all we suffered andfelt, the actual realization must beggar description.

One bright gleam came to me in the midst of all thishorrid darkness; strange how human emotions will riseto the front in spite of deadly peril.

I saw Carmencita leave her mistress and make herway into the stateroom.

When she reappeared she carried the little satchelwhich I had rescued with Hildegarde.

Though some distance away, trying to talk with Robbinsand Cummings, I could not withstand the fascinationof watching what she did.

For I had a certain interest in that bag.

First the woman showed—she took out a little pouchmade of soft chamois skin—I knew it of old to containher jewelry, numerous valuable diamonds, and rubies, inrings or some such setting—I had given them to herwhen we were traveling in Europe, after fortune hadpoured her favors in my lap.

This small bag, no larger than my hand, she proceededto tie upon her person.

I did not wonder at all—if one dies, of course the valuablescan do no good; but hope ever reigns in the humansoul, and should good fortune bear one to safety, it is wellto be provided with the sinews of war.

What next?

There was something more in that bag. Ah! she took[Pg 147]it out, the photo in the silver frame—I saw her look at it,then turn her eyes toward me.

I accepted that as an invitation, and, rising, came near,somehow I did not seem to feel as though I were aboutto be pained—the old jealous feeling was no longer alivesince I had learned that my one time rival, HilaryTempest, was still gunning for an heiress.

It was a wretched picture of—myself.

No wonder I had failed to recognize it in the hurriedglimpse obtained at the time she so quickly stowed itaway in the bag.

I suppose a man may even become so accustomed toseeing himself in his glass, “bearded like the pard,” thathe may scorn to recognize some early likeness, with itssmooth, boyish face, and this picture had been taken beforemy marriage.

At least it was a pleasure for me to realize that she hadcarried it with her wherever she went.

I had no objection to that fellow’s picture being setupon her dressing table, where it must be the last thingher eyes would behold ere she retired, and the first thingin the morning.

I deliberately took it up and tore it in pieces, despiteher entreaty.

“That fellow was a boor, a fool—we’ll try and supplanthim by one who has come to his senses, if we are luckyenough to reach the land,” I declared, and that endedthe episode.

Time still dragged on.

Several of the men slept, but I could not have doneso had my life depended on it; the crisis of my existencewas near at hand, and my nerves were strung to a hightension in anticipation of the battle.

I think Diana was overcome by exhaustion, and had[Pg 148]given way to slumber, for I heard nothing from her forsome hours.

Robbins occasionally went out.

I knew what was on his mind; ostensibly he meant tolook at the weather, but in reality it was his mission todiscover just how the doomed yacht was standing herpounding.

“Well?” I asked—it was almost four o’clock and inthree hours we would have daylight.

He shook his head.

“Storm increasing?” I demanded.

“No, going down slowly, but the hulk is almost readyto break in two—wheelhouse already gone, decks washedclean, and even the bulwarks broken into bits. Thefinish is in sight,” was what he said to me.

It gave me a numb feeling of pain.

How eagerly I prayed for delay—at least until dawn,for it is so much easier to face danger when one can distinguishits terrors, perhaps see the shore, to reach whichevery nerve must be strained.

Every time he went out after that I anxiously awaitedhis return.

Five, six o’clock—would it hold until daylight?

Hildegarde guessed how matters stood, and she satthere smiling at me—God bless her!—as much as to sayshe had no fear; but I knew it was done to encourage me,and that her poor little heart was quivering with womanlyfright.

Then came the summons to the fray—Robbins, with afirm look upon his face, calling:

“Every one on deck! the day has come and it is dangerousto remain below. She may break in two at anymoment. On deck all, I say!”

[Pg 149]

CHAPTER XXV.

ON THE BRINK OF ETERNITY.

Mate Robbins spoke as with authority, and no onethought to question his orders.

All the same, the announcement created a tremendousexcitement in the cabin of the wretched yacht.

Diana became hysterical again, poor girl! the horror ofthat awful night had almost unsettled her reason.

From my heart I pitied Gustavus, feeling that his taskof saving a woman whom fright had rendered worse thanhelpless, was something that contained little of hope.

Heaven knows the thing was bad enough even whentaken at its best—Hildegarde, brave little woman, hadjust as much reason to allow her natural fears to throwher into hysteria as Diana, yet, white-faced, she controlledherself enough to face the terrible situation, ready to dowhat little she might to snatch victory from almost positivedefeat.

I feel sure I would have a more doleful story to tell,even if I lived to relate it, had she been as utterly helplessas the distracted beauty.

The seamen, grim fellows, knowing they had to facethe fight of their lives, began pushing for the deck, eachman strapping on the life-preserver with which he hadprovided himself.

They were apparently cool and ready to match theirstrength against the brutal forces of the sea. For yearsthey had braved the tempest’s wrath, believing, as mostsailors do, that it was only a question of time ere theirbones must rest far below upon coral beds or banks ofsea moss.

[Pg 150]

That hour had come, perhaps, and with philosophicalgrimness they faced their fate.

I had arisen as soon as Robbins announced the dreadcrisis at hand.

“Come, Hildegarde, my darling—we must go on deckand meet what faces us. If it be Heaven’s will I shallsave you. If not, at least we may die together.”

It was in no spirit of heroism that I uttered these words—theysprang directly from my heart.

To look down upon this woman, dearly beloved, andconsider that in a brief time she must be at the mercy ofthose cruel waves beating so madly around us was surelyenough to wring the soul of any husband.

Yes, I lived years in that fleeting time.

Hildegarde had also arisen, and her blue eyes werefastened upon my face—I saw love and trust there, butsomething seemed lacking.

“Oh! Morgan, what is your duty?—to stand by me orhelp—that woman? I have heard her cry out your nameagain and again,” she said.

“That’s because she’s hysterical.”

“But your duty——”

“Is to stay with you now and always—nothing underheaven can tear me away.”

“But—Diana—she has a claim——”

“Not on me, with you here. Let her look to her ownhusband for help; I belong to you.”

My words, spoken so stubbornly, brought out a strangeanswer.

Hildegarde uttered a cry—it was not of fear such asDiana’s wails—oh, no, something entirely different.Strange how that note of joy sounded amid the exclamationsof fright, the bursting of the waves against thestranded yacht, and the whistle of the wind.

“Oh! Morgan, he her husband——”

[Pg 151]

“Yes, these fifteen months and more,” I cried, as thetruth dawned on me, and I saw as in a flash what thegrave barrier was that in her mind had stood between us.

“Forgive me—I thought—they told me you had goneaway with your old flame. Morgan, here with deathfacing us, tell me that you forgive me—for, I love you,indeed better than ever before in all my life.”

Well, I even forgot that the yacht was going to piecesunder us, and that Death on a White Horse was ridingvery near, eager for victims. A man may ignore evensuch important facts as these when the clouds suddenlypart to allow the warm sun a chance to thaw out hisfrozen heart.

For the first time in our lives we understood each otherthen.

I saw upon her face such ecstatic love that it were evenworth the terrible danger to enjoy such a moment of bliss.

Eagerly I opened my arms and she sprang to theirshelter—please Heaven, never to leave it again save tocross the dark stream to eternity.

It was strange to see us heart to heart in that momentof dread uncertainty; I doubt very much whether a moreremarkable reunion had ever occurred on earth.

The clouds were all gone—she was mine, mine alone,be the time of my possession minutes or years.

I strained her to me, and she looked up from my arms,just as I had fondly pictured her doing, with an expressionof angelic joy upon her face—the daylight was creepingin through the open cabin door, shaming the dimlamplight that had been our comfort all through thatdreadful night, and rested with almost a benediction uponher sweet face.

Gustavus had managed to get his wife on deck,swathed as she was in cork belts. Alas! I knew too well[Pg 152]their multiplicity would avail her little unless she coulduse common sense while battling with the waves.

We were alone in the cabin; Robbins had carried offlittle Carmencita, and I felt she would be saved if mortalpower could affect it.

The yacht gave a tremendous shudder under the impactof a big wave, and instantly a hand of ice seemed toclutch my heart, for I believed the very end had come,and that disintegration was at hand.

But there was yet time.

It aroused me, however, to a consciousness of my duty,which was to neglect no opportunity for advancing ourcause—our chances would be infinitely better on deckthan when confined to the cabin, should the yacht breakand be engulfed in the boiling sea.

“Come, beloved, we must get out of this; the only hopewe have is to avoid being caught in the wreck when theawful moment arrives. Trust me, Hildegarde,” I said,bending and kissing her, not passionately, but with thatholy affection we bestow upon the beloved one who perchancehovers on the portals of eternity.

“Now and evermore, husband!” was the answer shemade, as she threw her arms about my neck and gave meone eager embrace.

Her new-found happiness seemed to have given thelittle woman additional vigor.

Perhaps it was because life possessed more charms forher, or possibly she realized that our chances of successmust be strengthened by a brave front on her part.

Be that as it may, I only know she needed no sustainingarm in leaving the cabin, though with the staggeringfloor under our feet I would not allow her to walk alone.

When we passed beyond the confines of the cabin andreached the deck, the scene that burst upon us was reallythe most melancholy in my whole experience.

[Pg 153]

I cannot imagine a picture more desolate than a bravevessel going to pieces on the rocks, with the rollerspounding her torn sides, and the forlorn passengersgrouped about, waiting in painful and prayerful silencefor that summons which may in all probability send themto final judgment.

The yacht was already battered out of all resemblanceto the thing of beauty that had slipped so gayly over thewaves a short time back. No marine fabric has as yetever been constructed that could effectually hold outagainst the awful battering-ram of the aroused sea.

Every object had been broken from the deck and sweptaway—forward the hull was swimming with water, sothat had the yacht slipped from the reef on which cruelfortune had impaled her she must have sunk like aplummet.

I turned an eager gaze toward the shore.

There our scanty hopes rested, and everything dependedupon the distance and what lay between.

It was not very encouraging, to say the least—theshore was in plain sight, but between lay at least half amile of boiling surf, leaping in foamy tipped waves thatrolled and surged with resistless force, a whirlpool ofwrath.

Alas! what meager chance had a frail human beingamid such resistless forces?

I was in no humor to allow any weakness to get theupper hand; if ever I needed all the faculties nature hadgiven me, it was then, when face to face with the crisisof my life.

There was something else to rivet my attention besidesdespair—I felt that this was my time to win my wayback to paradise, or, failing, lose all that man held dearbelow.

What concerned me most of all lay in my opportunity[Pg 154]to advance my cause. My worst fear was that I shouldbe separated from this dear one, that she might be tornfrom my arms by the remorseless waves.

I had snatched up a coil of rope as I started to leavethe cabin, something that had been forgotten by one ofthe men.

How could I secure Hildegarde to myself, so that wewould be sure to remain united?

A heaven-born thought flashed into my head. I remembereda patent cork mooring-buoy I had purchased,intending to have it mark the spot where our anchor laywhen we remained in a harbor for a time, making littletrips here and there, to return again to our anchorage.

Leaving Hildegarde, with a hurried explanation of mypurpose, I dashed once more into the cabin—the paintedthing had never as yet been used, and had served merelyas a decoration.

Tearing it loose and dragging it after me, I made oncemore for the door.

It was then the yacht rolled frightfully, quivering inevery timber, like a stricken thing.

I was overwhelmed by the dreadful fear that the endhad come, and Hildegarde was alone and unprotected.

Down went the buoy and I whirled through the rockeddoorway to the deck, all my nerves wrought up to theutmost pitch; but, Heaven be praised! that shiver wasnot her last, and another chance remained. Hildegardestill crouched where I had left her, and I could go back forthe buoy upon which my hopes depended.

So I brought it forth.

Had I been alone, it should have been for Diana—Iwould have scorned taking advantage of its floatingpowers; but Hildegarde came first, since she was allthe world to me.

Gustavus was doing what he could under the directions[Pg 155]of Robbins; the night had brought out all that was grandin his disposition, and he stood there a hero, shorn ofall the petty foppish ways in which he delighted to masquerade.

When I came to her again, the little woman gave a cryof pleasure that struck to my heart. She had the utmostfaith in me and my ability to save her. Alas! I realizedwhen I looked out upon that churning sea what a brokenreed it was upon which she leaned.

Quickly I secured her to the buoy.

It would sustain her weight and might be the happiestthought of my life. Little did I think when carelesslypurchasing it in a French maritime town to what blesseduse it would eventually be put.

Then a portion of the rope was used to secure me tomy precious charge.

I took off my shoes and tied them to my belt, that Imight be the better able to exert my whole powers in thewater.

The break-up had been providentially delayed; but noneof us indulged in any false hopes; although the sea mightnot be so riotous as on the night before, it still possessedthe cruel power to beat the racked frame of the yachtto splinters. So we only waited, eating our very heartsout in suspense.

At last the awful crisis burst upon us. I felt a tremendousshock, heard the crash and groan of timbers, caughtDiana’s last despairing shriek, and had only time toclutch hold of Hildegarde when the waters engulfed us.

[Pg 156]

CHAPTER XXVI.

THROUGH THE UNDERTOW.

The shock was nothing to me, I had really been anticipatingit so long.

I kept my senses in a creditable manner, for well Iknew everything, her life, my own, depended upon coolness.

For a brief space of time we were under water, andthen both came to the surface.

One danger was past—I had dreaded lest some portionof the wreck might be hurled upon us with murderousforce; but, wonderful to say, I saw nothing of any timbersor anything at all after being swept into the sea whenthe deck had broken up.

That blessed buoy deserved all the appreciation I couldever bestow upon it, for surely it was a good investment.Hildegarde knew something of swimming, having alwaysbeen fond of the water, and this knowledge stood herwell now.

I could see that she was not choking, as a novice mighthave been when overwhelmed by a gigantic billow.

Now began a struggle for life.

I had much to fight for, everything that could nervea man to deeds of valor, for love leads the world asan incentive.

Desperately I fought.

There were times when it seemed as though the endwere nigh—when the relentless waves almost tore meaway from my precious charge in spite of my care inbinding myself to her.

How tenaciously I clung, with set teeth and hands thatalmost cracked under the pressure.

[Pg 157]

Then the tension would relax, and I was able to recovermy breath to some extent, preparatory to the next wildplunge.

Bad as the situation seemed, I knew there must beothers who were even worse off—who had already beenbeaten into insensibility by the waves, and for whom allhope had fled.

I saw nothing of them, though this was not strange,with such a vast ocean around us.

For Hildegarde my fears were greatest—alone I wouldhave fought a good fight, but not having the holy incentivethat nerved my arm now, I might have yielded upthe ghost.

Hildegarde was suffering now; it made my heart bleedto realize my utter helplessness to assist her, for whom Iwould have shed every drop of my blood.

She choked more than once as the seas repeatedly brokeover us, allowing scant time to catch a breath, and Iraged with a fury that was perhaps childish, to realizehow unable I was to shield her against their lashing.

All this while we had been drifting with the rollers, andmust be drawing near the shore.

Eagerly I watched my opportunity, when upon thecrest of a billow, to strain my water-soaked eyes towardwhere it should be.

Painful though my vision had become, thank Heaven!I saw the blessed shore—it was also close at hand, thoughbefore I could hope to gain its friendly shelter the worststruggle of all must be gone through with; for the deadlysea puss forms where the retreating undertow meets theincoming waves, and riotous war ensues.

And when, crowned with victory, I should stagger outof the foamy yeast, clasping in my arms that form soprecious, would there still be a sweet spirit within that[Pg 158]earthly tenement, or might my embrace but hold the lifelessclay of my best beloved?

Always must it remain more or less of a mystery howI reached the shore.

I remember the struggle, and how hopeless it seemedwhen the sea puss had me in its whirling grasp—howfutile my endeavors appeared, no matter how madly Istrained.

Then there came a change—I had been, as it were,plucked as a brand from the burning—a roller freedus from the undertow and tossed us shoreward.

My feet touched bottom—it was but a secondary anchorage,and then I was borne off again, but somehowit rekindled hope that had well-nigh died.

Again I watched my chance—again I felt that magicthrill, and bursting into a supreme effort planted my toesin the shifting sand, holding my own against the rushof the receding water, holding the painted buoy and itsprecious burden, which had broken loose from the rope.

Those seconds were fraught with momentous issues.

Almost exhausted as I was, I found it the battle of mylife to persist to the end, but it chanced that the waveupon which we had been borne was the first of a trio, theothers following unusually speedily upon its heels.

They saved the day.

Like driftwood almost, I was lifted up, carried shorewardand deposited on my knees in the sand—then camethe last wave washing me still farther up the strand.

I was done for—my breath, my strength had utterlygiven out, and I could not have raised an arm to havesaved myself had the sea attempted to claim us again.

Fortune willed otherwise, and we had at least a lastsingle chance for life.

There is no telling how long I might have lain there,gasping for breath, gurgling out the salt water I had[Pg 159]taken into my lungs, only that there suddenly flashedthrough my mind, as by a ray of light, the remembranceof the precious life that had been intrusted to my care.

That gave me a new and desperate lease of power; Iseemed to once again feel the warm blood pulsatingthrough my veins, and be endowed with physical vigor.

Still, such was my utter exhaustion I must have staggeredto my feet like a man of three-score years and ten.

There lay the painted buoy and Hildegarde’s precious,water-draggled form; how pitiable it looked with the longgolden hair streaming about her person; what a shiverit gave me to think how she resembled one drowned withthe seaweed clinging to her hair.

Oh! what agony I endured.

Had my labor been in vain?

My desperate struggle had all been for her, to savethat precious spark of life.

Speech was absolutely denied me just then, but I madesome hoarse articulate sound as I staggered to where shelay, for the last struggle had actually torn me adrift fromthe buoy and its burden.

My knife—I managed to get it out and, with hands thatshook as though with the palsy, severed the cords.

Then taking her in my arms, a dead weight, I movedback a pace at a time, laughing like one demented at thewaves that came rolling about my feet, cheated out oftheir fair prey.

Where the sand became free from the sea I found ahummock of grass, and there I gently laid my darlingdown.

Bending over I chafed her hands and did all that afrantic man could think of calculated to restore to lifethose almost drowned.

Alas! there was no response—she lay like a wiltedflower in my arms, so cold, so still that a terrible fear[Pg 160]sprang up within my agonized heart that she would neverawaken, that those beauteous eyes of heavenly blue weresealed forever.

And then it came upon me what the sense of utter desolationmight mean.

CHAPTER XXVII.

STRANDED.

It was a dreadful moment when this paralyzing fearbeset me—when it seemed as though the sun were hiddenonce more behind the black tempest clouds, and the atmospherepossessed a coldness that penetrated to my verymarrow.

Dead!—my Hildegarde, and just when I had foundher—when our hearts had been brought together afterthis weary separation—dead, and I held only the beautifulclay in my arms, the spirit having taken its upwardflight.

Bitter indeed were my feelings while I crouched there,pressing her close to me.

Had I not declared she would be saved or else I mustmeet death with her? Then how dared I live when shewas no more?

There was the sea, hungry for more victims.

A wild yearning to rush back into its embrace, withHildegarde in my arms, took possession of me—for themoment I could not be accounted responsible for my actions.

Already I held her, and as if to take my farewell ofthis one so well beloved I bent down and kissed heragain.

[Pg 161]

That was the saving stroke—I felt, or fancied I did, ananswering pressure, light as the petal of a blossom thatfalls to the ground; but it sent a quick galvanic shockthrough my entire system.

Oh! Heaven be praised, she lived!—there was even achance that I might restore her.

Again I set to work with an energy born not of despairnow, but eager hope—again I made use of every deviceI had ever seen tried by which those almost drownedmight be restored.

God was good—she moved, she sighed, she opened herblue eyes and looked with gentle love at me.

I was wild with delight.

One moment I capered upon the sand, like a FijiIslander at a victory feast—then kneeling I took her inmy arms and pressed her against my heart as though Iwould through personal contact enthuse her with a portionof the life and vigor that abounded so plentifully inmy own system.

Hildegarde recovered rapidly.

Perhaps nature was assisted by the consciousness ofour new-found happiness, for the way in which her littlehand would now and then close eagerly on mine when Iwas chafing it, told that she had not forgotten what hadhappened just before we were hurled from the breakingwreck.

So she became herself again, the color slowly cameback to her white cheeks, and life once more took up itssway; but it would always give me a shudder to thinkhow perilously near the borderland of eternity my Hildegardehad been.

Now we could even begin to think of others.

Were we the only survivors of the wreck—Gustavus,Diana, Robbins, Carmencita, Cummings, had they allbeen drowned?

[Pg 162]

It was a fearful thought.

The air, though not cold, was more or less cutting tous who were completely soaked through, and as I saw thelittle woman shiver, I bestirred myself to make some movelooking toward a betterment of our fortunes.

First we must get back of the sand dunes, where thewind might fail to reach us.

I assisted Hildegarde to her feet.

She was very weak, but growing in strength with eachpassing minute; all might be well if we could only manageto dry our bedraggled garments in some way.

One last eager look I cast up and down the beach, butnot a living soul could I discover—far away some objectlay upon the sand, which I suspected might be a body, butI dared not take Hildegarde there, and would not for theworld leave her just then; the living had even more needof my services than the sacred dead.

In the distance I discovered trees, among them manystately palmettos—this gave me an idea which promisedmuch.

In one of my pockets I always carried matches—theywere in what was called a waterproof safe, and if oneout of the lot could be induced to strike fire we wouldsoon have a glorious blaze, before which we might findgood cheer, and a chance to dry our garments.

So we trudged on—the exercise did us good in moreways than one, since it stirred up our blood, after theharrowing experience in the cold grasp of the sea.

For myself I cared naught—I was a man and had buffetedhard fortune many a time, so that I knew how totake things as they came; but I felt a wonderful pity forthe brave little woman at my side, knowing how rough itwas on her.

I kept an arm around her, and many times managedto give assistance.

[Pg 163]

We talked as we slowly neared the trees—talked ofmany things that concerned us, for there were to be nolonger any secrets between those whom Heaven had somiraculously reunited; both of us were ashamed of thepast, we each tried to shoulder most of the blame, andended by mutual forgiveness.

I had to stop and ratify the contract with a few fondkisses, while her face grew luminous with delight.

Strange how selfish human nature is. There we couldtalk of happiness when perchance our friends lay uponthe fatal beach, cheated out of even life itself. But whatcould you expect of an almost helpless wayfarer who hadbeen kept out of paradise for years? To such a manthere is excuse for many things when an angel opens thegate and invites him in.

Now and again I could see Hildegarde look pained,and I knew what brought the shadow upon her face; sheremembered Diana, the coquettish beauty, for whom herlast gleam of jealousy had gone forth, and the thoughtof the cruel fate that had come upon the bride of a yearhurt her cruelly.

I did not dare allow myself to think upon the matterat all—time enough for self-reproaches and bitter regretswhen she was in safety; until then my every faculty belongedto her.

At length we reached the trees.

I saw that Hildegarde suffered on account of the weightof her soaked garments, and I insisted on carrying herthe last hundred yards, despite her protests. Finding meobdurate she gave in, and as if to make the burden as lightas possible locked her hands around my neck.

Ye gods! such was the fierce happiness that gave meartificial strength I could have staggered a full mile thus;it was as though I had partaken of a magic elixir that[Pg 164]nerved me to wonderful deeds of valor, for love worksamazing things.

Once under the trees I set her down on a grassy knoll,and proceeded to gather many of the dead leaves from thepalmetto.

These, with their long, dried stems, make wonderfultorches, that give out fierce heat.

Now for the matches.

I rubbed the box dry, snapped it open and to my joyfound the contents perfectly preserved.

Immediately a blaze sprang up, increasing to a roar,and Hildegarde, approaching, held out her chilled handsapprovingly to the heat.

My duty in keeping up the fire caused me to be almostconstantly on the jump, but our garments steamed andsoon we began to feel better.

I began to consider our situation.

Where were we—on what coast, and how near civilization?I had money with me, but no means of defenseagainst wild animals save a knife.

Looking back and cudgeling my brains to do a littlefiguring, I reached the conclusion that after changing ourcourse we must have come back about as far as we hadgone the other way.

Consequently the chances were we might have beenwrecked upon the coast of Tobasco, and not a great distancefrom that wicked though gay capital, Berlin.

Now, I had pretty good and substantial reasons fornever wanting to see old Bolivar again—there were thosein the Central American metropolis who owed me agrudge, and a pretty healthy one at that, which theywould be only too glad to pay.

Indeed, I had myself sworn a pretty stiff vow to visitevery other quarter of the earth before thinking of settingfoot again in this, the scene of my recent adventures; but[Pg 165]so little do we know of what the future holds in storefor us, that here I was on Tobasco soil again inside ofthirty hours, and mighty well pleased to be there, too.

If necessary I was even willing to take chances andenter Bolivar—Hildegarde would require attention and achange of clothing—we could act cautiously, and keepour presence secret, watching a chance to slip on boardsome American fruit steamer and thus escape.

Oh! I felt bold enough to dare almost anything nowthat I had my own to battle for; life was worth living, theworld seemed little short of heaven, and nothing dauntedme.

We had been drying ourselves more than an hour beforethe hot fire when I heard voices, and saw two menapproaching.

They were the ordinary half-breed natives, growers ofbananas, perhaps.

I called to them in Spanish and they approached.

Then I told them we had been washed ashore froma vessel wrecked in the recent storm, and asked for shelteruntil we could proceed to the city.

Upon inquiry I found Bolivar was only a few milesaway, just as I suspected.

The men looked surprised—I wondered why they exchangedsuch strange glances; but their invitation to providefor us was hearty enough.

So we slowly accompanied them to their cabin, whichwas a good mile away.

Here, amid the great green fronds of a banana plantation,we found a wretched hovel, with a woman in charge.

Hildegarde was worn out—she only wanted to get acup of coffee and eat a ripe banana, when, dropping upona home-made cane chair, she fell into the sleep of exhaustion.

I was ready to give in, too, but first I wished to talk[Pg 166]with the men, interest them in the fate of my comrades,and promise a reward if they brought any of the poorfellows, dead or alive, to the cabin, the price to be doubledif they lived.

They were profuse in their manifestations of almostservile willingness to carry out my ideas, and hurriedaway toward the beach.

Alas! I did not know the treacherous character of thesemiserable half-breeds, who unite the very worst qualitiesof the two races they represent.

So I, too, settled myself in a chair, utterly tired out.I must have slept for hours, not knowing the passage oftime, nor do I believe I dreamed, such was the heavinessof my slumber.

Then suddenly I awoke; some one was shaking me. Iopened my eyes in amazement, unable to immediatelycomprehend what it all meant, for the wretched littlecabin was swarming with the gayly garbed soldiers ofBolivar’s brave army, and directly in front of me I sawone whom I had very good cause to wish at the other sideof the world—in Bombay or Cape Town, or even Cathay;anywhere but here, in fact, for in this stout person I recognizedthe awful alcalde, or mayor of Bolivar.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE HOSPITALITY OF THE ALCALDE.

We were entrapped without a doubt.

The banana planters had betrayed us, having someknowledge of what transpired in Bolivar on the night ofthe flower festa, and aware of the fat reward offered forour apprehension.

[Pg 167]

One of them had gone to the beach while the other hiedhim to town with news for the alcalde.

The result was, I had an ugly awakening.

Perhaps I might have offered some show of resistanceif there had been any chance; but one man is a fool tofight against twenty—dead I would be of no assistance toHildegarde, while alive I could use my Yankee brain toadvantage.

I turned to look at her.

What a pitiful smile she threw me, as though she accusedherself of having brought all this horrible ill luckupon me.

I determined to keep up a brave face for her sake aswell as my own, and immediately called out some cheeringwords.

At any rate, while our situation might not be all wewould desire, it could have been much worse.

I thought of my gallant fellows perhaps strewn alongthat pitiless beach, and somehow the remembrance mademe feel more thankful.

There was an American present—a man with the faceof a parson, but whom I knew to be a cold-blooded oldrascal—Hildegarde’s father, the man for whom she haddone so much, but whose avaricious soul hankered constantlyafter more, and who had plotted with his colleague,the mayor, to possess the remainder of her fortune.

What would they do with me?

I had engaged the official forces of Bolivar, my friendhad tumbled the sacred person of the mayor in the dust,and altogether I might be looked upon as a very dangerousfirebrand in the camp.

Many a man, for much less, has been stood up beforea file of soldiers and riddled with lead.

Nor was it supposable that they would allow me tocommunicate with our resident consul.

[Pg 168]

My fate must be determined another way.

Somehow I did not worry very much, for I knew suchlovers of golden bait as our worthy alcalde had provenhimself, all have their price.

I had immense means, and doubtless would be given achance to buy my liberty, on condition that they mightnever be made to suffer.

And Hildegarde—I would not move my little finger tosave my life if she were not considered in the deal, too.

There was no use in angering the man in whose handmy fate lay, so I simply told him I was willing to acceptof his hospitality.

My nerve somewhat staggered the old chap, but hegrinned in a self-satisfied way, and gave me to understand,in very forceful Spanish, that I had done enoughsix times over to merit death, and that he would take mycase into consideration; meanwhile his soldiers had beeninstructed to fill me very full of lead at the first sign onmy part of a desire for flight.

This was altogether very charming—it warmed myheart toward the worthy alcalde.

And I saw that his soldiers would never hesitate aboutcarrying out his orders, if one might judge from the blacklooks they cast on me.

Several bore bandages—indeed, the whole squad lookedas though it had seen signal service of late, and my consciencepricked me as I remembered how roughly we hadused the boys on that night of nights.

I drew out what loose gold I had—well did I know itwould be taken from me anyhow, and diplomacy whisperedthat it might be made to serve a good purpose if Iwere shrewd; perhaps the hour might come when it wouldbe to my advantage to have these fellows friendly ratherthan enemies, for the Spanish-American is a good hater.

My command of the Spanish language, as I have said[Pg 169]before, had never been wonderful, but it was growing allthe time, and if I stayed among these people another fortnight,I might be a fair linguist, since necessity compelsone to learn.

So I addressed the grim warriors and told them howglad I was to make their acquaintance—that I always hada sneaking belief the finest soldiers in the world were tobe found in Bolivar, and also that I desired to presenttheir captain with certain golden onzas wherewith he was,upon the earliest occasion, to treat them to the very bestto be found in old Bolivar; moreover, I solemnly promisedthat when I reached New York again I would hastento send them a huge hogshead of champagne wherein todrink my health.

It was a master stroke.

Every man grinned as he heard the sweet jingle ofgolden coins passing from my hand to that itching palmof the captain, and I have no doubt eager eyes countedeach quarter eagle or sovereign as it came in view, intendingthat the officer should give a fair accounting.

They no longer scowled—a balm had been applied totheir wounds, for great is the power of money wherevercivilization extends.

The alcalde hardly knew how to take me—I could seeI had gained his respect, and as out of the corner ofmy eye I noted his interest, it was plain to me how hemight be managed.

A bold front, a stiff bluff, and, presto! the thing mightbe accomplished, with money to lubricate the wheels ofprogress.

All alcaldes are pretty much alike, I have found; theyuse their office for private gain.

He announced, in his important, consequential way,that it was time we were going.

I could not but notice that the old fellow who claimed[Pg 170]to be Hildegarde’s father, and of whom I had no reasonto believe anything to the contrary, kept watching me outof the tail of his eye.

He kept shy of me, and I fancied he had begun to entertaina lively fear of this husband of his girl; perhapshis guilt made him a coward, and he felt I had an accountto settle with him that might not be so pleasant.

I boldly advanced to my wife and spoke some lowwords of comfort to her.

At least, she would soon be where she could again haveaccess to her trunks, and what woman in her deplorablecondition but would have found a source of congratulationin this fact.

My confidence gave her new life, and her face oncemore took on color; we had so much to be thankful for, itseemed unreasonable to complain because a little temporarymisfortune troubled us.

Patience, and she would yet see me cut this Gordianknot, like Alexander of old.

So I babbled on, not so much to give vent to my ownprowess in boasting as with the idea of inspiring her withnew zeal.

I heard the alcalde’s rasping voice give orders to leavethe cain, and, not wishing to arouse his ill will, I tuckedHildegarde under my arm and went forth.

The better part of the day had flown while I slept thesleep of exhaustion, and now the afternoon seemed wellspent.

Near by were a number of vehicles in which the worthymayor and his ferocious army had sallied forth fromtown, most of them covered carts drawn by the everlastingmule, though there was one American ’bus, resplendentin gaudy paints, and to which were attachedfour horses.

We were to make our entry in style.

[Pg 171]

There was some confusion as the carts filled with therepublican guards—men shouted and mules brayed horribly,for these excitable soldiers of hot temperamentscan do nothing save under stress of much jabbering.

At last we were off.

A soldier sat beside the driver of the stage—the captainand three others crowded in after we were seated,while opposite us were the mayor and Hildegarde’s unworthysire.

That ride—will I ever forget it?

The road was villainous, and it made me actually sorein the endeavor to protect my dear one from bruises—thestage jolted and bounced and rocked when the horsesran, with much of the pitching motion felt in a smack atsea when the waves toss wildly.

I almost pitied the stout old mayor, he was bouncedabout so, as though but a rubber ball. Twice I had himin my lap, and it required all my powers to protect Hildegarde,who sat in the very forward end of the seat.

Again and again the alcalde sung out some energeticSpanish swear words, and looked daggers across at me,as though it were wholly my fault he chose to personallyundertake this errand, instead of sending a deputy.

I did not fancy the venerable chap—there was a cold-bloodedcalculation in his eyes, as though he might beeternally sizing up one’s worth in a purely speculativemood, and it really goes against the grain of a free-bornAmerican to be thus set down as so much merchandise.

But I must dissemble—for Hildegarde’s sake I wouldhave to hide my real feelings that prompted me to defythe fat tyrant to his teeth, threatening him with the awfulretributive justice to be expected from Uncle Sam, and appeareven docile, friendly, ready to hobnob with the devilshould occasion arise, and some hope of profit appearabove the horizon.

[Pg 172]

So I availed myself of every opportunity to give theold fellow the “glad hand,” as an acquaintance used toexpress it, to sympathize with his misfortune, execratethe driver, the bad roads and the wretched governmentthat allowed his excellency to risk his neck when by theuse of a small sum the evil could be remedied.

I thought diplomacy had won out, too, but was soon tobe undeceived.

We reached the outskirts of the city.

Evening had come.

As usual, it was a bustling hour in Bolivar, for the heatof the day had kept all good people indoors until the freshafternoon breeze came off the broad bay.

Once I had a good view of the harbor—how proud Ihad been when last leaving it—but what a tumble pridehad taken.

There was a steamer in the harbor, and better still sheflew that blessed Stars and Stripes. Would that Hildegardewere safe on board; as for myself, I might be willingto take my chances.

We naturally attracted some attention passing alongthe streets, but these people of Bolivar were fed on dailysensations, and just now chanced to be pretty well sated,for they took it out in staring.

Thus we came to the big mansion of the alcalde.

Here was the irony of fate, to be thus ignominiouslycarted back, prisoners of war after the brilliant campaignthat had ended in the tragedy of the harbor—it wascruel.

I had only time to say a few more sentences to Hildegarde,giving her good cheer, and bidding her to be everon the watch for me, and ready to make another breakfor liberty when my guards tore me away; between themI was marched down a flight of stairs and along a darkcorridor—I heard a door creak open, was pushed forward,[Pg 173]stumbled and fell and lying there heard a rusty key creakin the lock, telling me I was a prisoner in a dungeon.

CHAPTER XXIX.

THE GUARD I LOVED.

This sort of treatment was really rougher than I hadreason to expect—it gave me a very unpleasant realizationthat the alcalde must be decidedly in earnest.

His dignity had been badly jarred, and I fancied itwould take a tremendous sum to act as balm to his laceratedfeelings.

Perhaps the price might be too mighty for even myFortunatus purse to reach.

Well, I lay where I had fallen for a little time; it wasjust as good a berth as any until my eyes could begin togrow accustomed to the inky darkness.

That there should be such a place as a dungeon beneaththe hacienda of the alcade did not seem to astonish mein the least—indeed, I appeared to take it as a most naturalthing; as though these casas of the rich Bolivar citizensmust be built something on the order of the old-timefeudal castles, with all manner of secret passages anddoors.

I think a moat or a drawbridge, perhaps even a portcullis,might not have been amiss in the premises.

After a while I found it useless to dream of seeing insuch dense blackness, and accordingly pulled myself together.

It required a pretty stout heart not to feel downcastover the discouragements with which I found myself confronted.

[Pg 174]

One thing buoyed me up amazingly—even the hatred ofthe alcalde could not dismay me when I knew I possessedthe love and confidence of Hildegarde; in the bitter pastshe could never come to regard me as anything beyond amediocre fellow, far below the standard she had set forher hero; but, thanks to Heaven, a change had come overthe spirit of her dream, a change as tremendous as it wascomplete, and now in her eyes I represented the flowerof chivalry.

I remembered that blessed match box—if they had notsurreptitiously searched my pockets I should have thatuseful article still.

Yes, it was all right.

Eagerly I snapped a match—it flashed and went out,on account of careless handling.

Come, this would never do—my stock was entirely toosmall for such reckless waste.

The second trial proved a success, but it did not seemto arouse my enthusiasm, for the place was apparentlya hopeless hole in the ground—heavy walls surroundedme on all sides, the door appeared to be quite massive,and what little air penetrated the moldy dungeon camefrom a grating of some sort high above my reach, probablyopening into the garden.

I laughed, perhaps not very merrily, but in grim humor,at the horrible predicament in which I found myself.

Then, groping my way to a cot upon which I foundsome disreputable straw, I rolled over and went philosophicallyto sleep.

For the life of me I could not tell how long I lay inthis half stupor, brought about by my recent tremendousexertions.

When I finally awoke, hours later, I was all of atremble, partly from the chilly surroundings, and alsoon account of a nasty dream that had come to me, where I[Pg 175]seemed once more on the wreck, lashed to the rail, unableto move hand or foot, while Hildegarde, swept awayon a giant billow, held out her hands entreatingly in vain,calling my name in agonized tones.

No wonder I shivered.

I was of a decidedly practical nature, and instead ofbemoaning my fate, I sprang erect, and began to thresharound as though suddenly taking leave of my goodsenses.

The result became speedily apparent, for with the acceleratedheart movement a tingling of warm blood beganto be felt to my very toes and fingers, so that I wassoon glowing.

I wondered what time it was.

They had not robbed me of my watch, but it had seenrough usage in the sea, and I hardly expected to find itgoing.

To my surprise, upon holding it up to my ear I heardthe busy ticking.

It required the sacrifice of another match to tell me itwas seven o’clock; but the game was really worth thecandle, for I rejoiced that the day had arrived.

After a while I had a visitor—the jailor was a heavilyarmed retainer of the alcalde, whose piratical appearancewas apt to discourage one from all thought of attemptingto overpower him and secure his outfit.

I pretended to be cheerful, and even joked with thefellow as well as my knowledge of Spanish allowed.

Whether he understood me or not, he evidently was notinclined to join in my light humor, for slamming down apitcher of vile water, together with a vessel containingsome tortillas and frijoles, he gave me a black scowl thatwould have made his fortune on the stage, and stalkedaway, noisily locking the door as if to comfort me.

His face looked a little familiar, yet for the life of me[Pg 176]I could not remember where I had seen him before, norhow I had injured him.

Never mind—I felt ravenously hungry, and the water,drank in the dark where one might not see its defects,was not so bad.

I have partaken of many a dainty fare in my day, wheretables groaned beneath the weight of good things garneredfrom the four corners of the earth; but, after all,appetite is the true connoisseur, and I honestly believethat humble portion of beans and maize cakes, devouredmuch after the manner of a savage, in that dark and dampdungeon, tasted better than the historic feast of Lucullus.

At any rate, they did not mean to starve me—not thatI had entertained fears in this respect, for surely one whohad the cupidity of the alcalde would never kill the goosethat laid the golden eggs—at least, until he had goodreason to believe the source had been drained.

When noon came my genial jailor again made his appearance.

More beans and fried cakes—never mind, one canstand even this monotonous bill of fare when the appetiteholds good.

All I found reason to complain of was the limitedquantity; they forgot that a man of leisure, who has nothingto employ his time, and to whom the hours drag unmercifullydevelops an enormous capacity for devouringfood.

This thing began to grow monotonous.

The restless Yankee spirit aroused within me.

Since the mountain showed no inclination to come toMahomet, it was evident that he must make a virtue ofnecessity and go to the mountain.

In other words, I resolved to see what chances theremight be for escape.

Apparently the case was hopeless enough, with those[Pg 177]impregnable walls about me; but Nature had endowedme with an optimistic spirit, and besides, I had read ofmany wonderful escapes—that of Monte Cristo, for instance,and the Union prisoners who left old Libby prisonby means of tunnels and a chimney.

I had my knife still.

With this I managed to shave off numerous smallpieces from the rude cot—they might not be perfectlydry, but if properly arranged would undoubtedly burn.

When illumination was thus brought about the old dungeonlooked at least a bit more cheery.

I must confess, however, that the chances for escapedid not seem to improve; those walls might as well havebeen adamant so far as my ability to break through went.

Perhaps with patience and a year of time, one mighthave dug a hole through, but I was not a life prisoner, likeEdmond Dante, and my case would evidently meet withspeedy settlement at the hands of the irate alcalde, whowas laying his wires to get all that was possible out ofthe game.

That meant, very plainly, that more urgent measureswould have to be adopted if I hoped to desert my palatialquarters.

My fuel, being very limited, the supply gave out, leavingme in darkness.

All I could do was to walk up and down like a cagedtiger; at first I experienced more or less trouble, comingin contact with the walls, which were very unsympathetic;but by degrees I learned caution, and, counting my steps,managed to spare my head.

Then came my jolly friend, the black-bearded buccaneer,with his royal fare—this time he had, with a generosityI could never forget, varied the menu; it was nolonger beans and cakes and water, but cakes, water andbeans.

[Pg 178]

Never mind, at least the supply was a little more generousthan on former occasions, and I was no fault-finder.

Again I rallied him, firing at him several chestnuts Ihad recollected; but the fellow’s heart never gave a responsivethrob, and I sighed to think what a dreary desertthis bright world must appear to a man of his caliber.Perhaps he had recently been jilted by his best girl, andwas still in the throes of bitterness, for surely nothing elsecould make a man look as though he would be happy tobite a piece of steel in two.

So he faded from my view, and I was once more leftalone.

But his coming had given me an idea.

He had suspended his lantern, an American one at that,from the iron knob of the door, while he spread the festiveboard, or, in more simple but less elegant language,dumped my grub upon the stone floor with a recklessnessthat gave me pain.

My attention had been attracted toward the door, withthe result that I fancied it would repay me for a closeexamination.

So, after disposing of the last remnant of my supper,bestowed through the courtesy of the alcalde—bless hisbenevolent heart—I set to work examining that samedoor.

Here I squandered three more of my precious matches,but the investment paid me—indeed, I almost came toworship at the shrine of those little wooden, brimstone-tippedgods; never had I dreamed they could appear sovaluable, and more than once I vowed that, freed fromthis trouble, I meant to never suffer for lack of a sufficiencyagain, if I had to start a factory or even buy upthe whole iniquitous match trust.

The door was a great big sham, a hollow mockery; apparentlyit was a massive affair, capable of resisting a battering[Pg 179]ram; but in reality time had played such havoc withthe oak, aided and abetted by some mysterious boringworm, that it was the easiest thing in the world for me tobury the blade of my pocketknife in its fiber.

This was joy indeed; my old run of luck had not yetreached the end of its tether, and I rather guessed I wasstill in the game.

And the way I slashed into that humbug of a door wasa caution; I made the rotten stuff fairly fly in a shower,so that twice I had to stop my work and indulge in asneezing spell on account of the particles of wood dustin the air.

Never mind, the hole grew apace and would speedilybe large enough to accommodate the prisoner who yearnedto try his wings.

Then my rising hopes received a rude shock, for uponthe stone flagging of the corridor I heard the distinctsound of approaching footsteps.

A curse upon that meddling, black-muzzled jailor.

CHAPTER XXX.

TO THE RESCUE.

Somehow I did not care to bother my hand in speculationsconcerning the pirate, or why he came to see me atthis uncanny hour. What did it matter whether his suspicionshad been aroused, or a sudden desire to be morecongenial had flowed into his icicle heart? He was coming,my little game must be disclosed, and the consequencesturn out badly—for me.

I could do nothing to prevent it. Acting under an impulse,[Pg 180]I groped around until I found the rough cudgelwhich I had wrenched loose from my beautiful rustic cot—perchancea foolish freak might tempt the curmudgeonto thrust his shocking head through the inviting hole Ihad made in his old door, and if I could manage to dropthat bit of cypress with more or less emphasis upon hiscaput, it would be well.

There was little time for suspense.

I could see the light, and hear the jingling of thoserusty keys.

Of course, he could immediately discover the grandopening. I listened to hear him exclaim, for as yet Iwas not certain Cerberus could claim a voice, since he hadutterly refused to answer civil questions or acknowledgethe age of the musty jokes which I had showered himwith.

Sure enough, I did hear a voice, but it gave me a tremendousstart; had I been in gross error, and was thisblack-muzzled Tartar only a renegade Yankee in disguise,after all?

For he had cried out:

“Great Scott!”

Somewhere I had heard that exclamation used manytimes—why, sure enough, it was my old friend, that heartof oak, Mate Robbins; but poor Robbins was dead, andtherefore it could not be he who jangled those keys.

Now he bent down, and I mechanically raised my cypressflail, though dubious about the propriety of using it.

A second later I dropped the cudgel nervelessly to thefloor, for some one had said:

“Hello! there, Morgan, old boy—are you on deck yet?”

That was either Robbins or his ghost, and if the latter,then a pretty healthy specimen of a specter, as I foundwhen he had succeeded in unlocking the door, and shookme heartily by the hand.

[Pg 181]

I was still a little mystified, because the man who wrungmy arm like a pump handle was rigged out quite bravelyas a citizen of Bolivar, and might have passed for suchon the public plaza; but it was Robbins’ voice, and I waswilling to take the rest for granted.

Strange to say, I felt a little bit of chagrin at his comingjust at that time; you see, my heroic battle with thatsturdy old fraud of a door had all been for naught, andhad this friend shown up half an hour earlier he mighthave saved me an immense amount of labor.

Nevertheless, I was royally glad to have the dear fellowwith me, and to learn, first of all, that he was inthe land of the living, when I had all along been dismallypicturing him as food for the sharks.

So I returned his hand squeeze with interest, and preparedto bombard him, not with the nutty jokes I hadfired at Cerberus, but real questions, with a decided bearingupon the situation.

He was bound to answer after a fashion, and thus Ilearned that he had escaped the fury of the sea, with Carmencita,learned of my capture, gone with the child tothe house of her relatives, who belong to the secret revolutionaryparty—the “outs” are always plotting to overthrowthe government in that country, so there is constantlya revolution slumbering beneath the surface—hadbeen warmly received into their councils, and assisted tolay the wires looking to my rescue.

This seemed to bring him down to the present, when heappeared before me.

I would have enjoyed hearing the details, but he declaredthis would take much time.

“You see, I’ve had the very old deuce of a time sincegetting ashore, and there’s a lot to tell that can keep. Wewant to act now,” he said.

[Pg 182]

“Right, Robbins—act is the word. But I’m in a poorway to assist,” I declared.

“How so—not wounded, I hope?”

I hastened to assure the honest fellow I was in the pinkof condition, which perhaps was hardly the truth, butthat my anxiety arose from the lack of proper weapons,such as a man usually delights in when preparing to defy awhole city.

“Then let that trouble you no more,” said he, pressingsome things into my eager hands.

“Why, hello! This is the gun I saw in the belt ofCerberus! What have you done with my gentle, humorousjailor, Robbins?”

“If you mean that clumsy rascal with the shock ofblack hair, I’ve used a whole cable of hempen rope to tiehim fast, and stretched his jaws as far as they would go toaccommodate a neat little gag. Oh! he’s all right, Morgan;don’t worry about him,” was the cheerful reply themate gave.

My admiration for the man grew more intense.

He was unquestionably a “hummer,” to use one of hisown expressive phrases, or what the cowboys of theplains call a “hustler.”

Woe to Bolivar since he was loose upon her streets, andwoe to the reigning dynasty if Robbins had joined forceswith the revolutionary party that waited to overthrow theexisting government.

Perhaps Cerberus was not the first man to feel theweight of his displeasure, and I was positive he would notbe the last.

“Now for Hildegarde!” I said, enthusiastically, wavingmy captured gun aloft.

“Yes, I suppose the whole thing has to be done overagain,” ventured Robbins.

“Well, if I had one reason for joining you in that other[Pg 183]enterprise, where the woman in trouble was utterlyunknown, I surely have a thousand now when she is mybest beloved, the wife I saved from the sea, whose trustin me has been more than restored, and to rescue whomI’d wade through fire and blood.”

“Bravo!” said Robbins, who always admired in othersanything bordering on the theatrical, albeit he was such apractical old chap himself, and could never be made tobelieve he had done anything great. “Bravo, Morgan!Those sentiments do you honor. And here’s one readyto back you up, though the way be blocked by the wholearmy.”

“Bah! I’ve subsidized them already—they have acceptedmy gold and look to fairly swim in champagne when Ireach New York. Don’t worry about the army, my boy.There are others,” was what I flung at him.

“Plenty of them—in fact, I think the old army will haveits hands full this night, and the green badge they wearturn to a crimson one by the morning,” said this dark conspirator,mysteriously.

I caught his meaning, especially since I knew somethingabout these sudden face-about changes liable to occur anyday in the average impulsive young republics of CentralAmerica—they are the greatest theatres in the world forremarkable dramatic events.

“It’s a revolution, then,” I remarked.

“Yes, and a gay one, too, you bet,” he returned, with asagacious nod of his sombrero.

“And you are in it—you, Robbins?”

“Up to my neck.”

“Not forty-eight hours landed in the country—well,you are a Yankee, sure enough. Have they put you up forpresident, my boy?”

He grinned—it was quite audible.

[Pg 184]

“Well, hardly, and me not knowing Spanish as she isspoke. Gen. Toreado is in line for that honor.”

“What! Our old acquaintance—the man we abused sohandsomely? Well, it seems to me we’re between the upperand nether millstone, and stand a good show ofbeing most beautifully pulverized—they’re all against us.”

“Not quite—fortune and little Carmencita—a good combination,you notice—have raised us up a few friendswho’ll do their level best to see us out of the place safely.”

“That one’s easy enough—all they have to do is to takeus by boat out on the harbor and deliver us on board.”

“Great Scott; you forget your yacht is a wreck, strewnon the shore.”

“No, I forget nothing; I never shall forget the sad incidentsconnected with that catastrophe. Poor Gustavus,poor Di, and then Cummings, a man to whom my heartwent out. There’s only one bright spot in it, Robbins—thatwreck reconciled my wife to me, and I would gothrough it all again for that reward.”

“I don’t blame you, Morgan. Excuse me for such familiarity,sir, but I somehow can’t forget we were shipmatestogether on the Pathfinder.”

“Morgan it shall be, to the end of the chapter. Letthat rest. Now, it’s time we made a move, I reckon.What say you?”

“One minute. It’s well to understand—half the battlelies in work that is planned out to a detail before thefirst gun is fired.”

“What would you?” restraining my ardor to reach theside of my best beloved.

“You mustn’t rest in ignorance—just now you spoke ofthe harbor. Why should our escape lead us a second timein that quarter?”

“Why, because I saw a fruit steamer there, that flew theAmerican Stars and Stripes, and once under the old flag[Pg 185]we can snap our fingers at the alcalde, the army—in fact,the entire country.”

“Well, she’s gone,” he said, quietly enough.

That gave me a sad shock.

“The steamer gone—when, where? Hang the luck?”

“To Jalapa.”

“The other fruit port across the mountains. That is aknock-down argument, Robbins. I leave the case in yourhands—so long as we take my Hildegarde with us I’mready to follow you through Hades, if necessary.”

“Perhaps it won’t be quite as bad as that, though I’vean idea we’re not going to get through without some hardraps. But you shall see for yourself. Now, if you’reready, follow me.”

CHAPTER XXXI.

A REVOLUTIONIST.

The attachments of home did not appeal to me in thisinstance; to tell the honest truth, I was extremely wellpleased to escape from the place in which my person hadbeen confined for the space of more than twenty-fivehours, nearer thirty, I think.

Robbins had come to me like an angel of light, an angelwith a flaming sword, who would lead me to fields ofglory, and to Hildegarde—hence, I followed him with aneagerness no words of mine could describe.

He had his bearings all right, and went at the businesswith the air of a man who knew just what he wantedand meant to get it.

Naturally, I was not a little curious to understand howhe came to be in the house of the alcalde.

[Pg 186]

I might have fancied, from his dress, that he had obtainedsome sort of position in the hacienda of the mayor,but that seemed too absurd for belief, considering that hepossessed so wretched a command of the Spanish language.

Had it been myself, now, there might have seemedsome reason for it—although I could even remember afew instances where my lack of proficiency in that respecthad given me more or less trouble.

In good time all would be made clear.

I made a shrewd guess that Carmencita and her revolutionaryfriends had a goodly share in the enterprise; Robbinshad saved the child from the sea, and his rewardcame in the shape of assistance.

Thus we reap what we sow.

My emotions while traversing the gloomy corridor wereof a more lively character than when last I tramped itslength, in the custody of the soldiers.

Indeed, so positive was I that the upheaval in my fortunesso patiently awaited had arrived, and that it wasmy turn to kick those who had held me down, that Ichuckled audibly while thinking of the alcalde.

His goose was cooked—the goose which he expected tolay the golden eggs.

Poor mayor!

It was an evil day for him and his fortunes whenYankee blood landed in Bolivar. Still, by a quick turn,when the success of the revolution seemed assured, hecould save his head; these things are constantly done inSouth and Central American lands, where one meets theveterans of a dozen revolutions.

Then, my sweet cherubim, the silent, scowling, piraticaljailer—what of him?

Really, the fellow had been such a striking stage characterone might have thought him to be in training for a[Pg 187]new comic opera, and he had appealed to the humorouselement in my peculiar composition.

So much did I think of Cerberus that I touched goodRobbins on the shoulder and begged, as a particular favor,that he would grant me the privilege of a last farewellglimpse of the surly dog, that is, if it were convenient.

Accordingly, he presently led me to a door, which hekicked open, and bade me look in.

The lantern showed me another den similar to that luxuriousabode in which I had spent a day and a night, onlythis one lacked the kingly couch on which I had restedmy weary limbs.

But my old friend was there, lying like a mummy on thedamp and moldy floor.

He seemed almost swathed in rope that had been coiledaround him from head to feet, and secured with many ahalf hitch, and similar sailor’s knots; while he appearedto have stopped short in the act of swallowing a pine knot,a portion of which projected from between his teeth.

I had heard of alligators doing that sort of thing, butnever a human being; but then I had my doubts as towhether Cerberus were not half or wholly buccaneer.

Perhaps I should have felt sorry for the poor devil, but,somehow, I could not; he had seemed so churlish and hatefulthat it looked as though he were only getting his rightfulreward while he lay there.

And, possessed by a spirit of deviltry, I could not resistthe temptation of approaching the fellow with mysteriousmovements; doubtless, he fully anticipated that I wasabout to repay the debt I owed him by introducing a keen-edgedknife between his fifth and sixth ribs, for his blackeyes fairly scintillated with terror.

My revenge was even more sinister.

I bent down and whispered, hoarsely:

“Tortillas, frijoles, aqua—aqua, tortillas, frijoles,” and[Pg 188]varied the menu a few more times. It was enough—thetorture, or something else, caused him to utter a groan;but I have often thought since that Cerberus never fullyappreciated the terrible nature of my revenge.

Some men are invulnerable to a joke.

Having satisfied my curiosity, and looked upon thepirate in adversity, I signified to Robbins that now I waswilling to go on.

Other things awaited my attention; there seemed to betremendous events trembling in the balance, in which Iwas to have a share, but just what these were, or whatmy interest in them might amount to, I could not yetunderstand.

We now proceeded to leave the subterranean quartersof the alcalde’s place, nor was I overcome by any seriousregrets.

The upper world always had more charms in my eyes—Iwas never intended to work in a colliery or the salt minesin Siberia, to which political offenders were wont to besent; one survey of these latter under official guidance hadbeen quite enough for me.

How vividly I remembered my former escapade in theseancestral halls, and how we had carried the fort by storm;would the same good fortune attend our present venture?

The chances were fair—Robbins had made some powerfulfriends, and this time we might rely upon it that thewhole of Bolivar would not have to be reckoned within our flight.

I was really glad Robbins assumed charge of the expedition;he was a born leader, whom opportunity had asyet failed to seek out with sufficient frequency.

That was all done away with now, for I was fully determinedhe should from this hour never lack for a berthwhere he could hold command.

There were other steam yachts, and I could, if I chose,[Pg 189]invest a cool hundred thousand in one, for that Mediterraneantrip, with Hildegarde at my side, held out fascinationsto my hungry soul.

The golden eggs the alcalde did not get could be putto this good service.

“Is it Hildegarde, now?” I whispered, hoarsely, in Robbins’ear, for a vague fear had arisen to give me disquiet,a fear lest he might have become so wrapped up in theschemes of the revolutionists that he would feel compelledto employ the first of his time to their cause.

In that event I would have gone it alone.

Now his ready answer reassured me.

“Hildegarde first, my lad, and all the time. My workdepends wholly on her safety; if they find her a refuge,I’ve promised that both of us are with them, heart andsoul,” he said.

That meant, of course, that I was to become a revolutionist.

Well, I would have done much more to insure hersafety—adopted the calling of a contrabandista or smuggler—yes,even that of a pirate, if by so doing I couldserve that little woman.

My re-entrance into Paradise had apparently loosenedthe screws of my brain box a trifle, which must be theexcuse for any trace of extravagance of which I appearedguilty.

Why, not to be a revolutionist down in this countrymeant not to exist—at one time or another everybody wasthat.

So I rested content.

At the most, I supposed it only meant joining a howlingmob, shouting wildly for the new president, Gen. Toreado,and making all the racket possible, until, finally, thealarmed government, fearful lest their lives might be inperil, fled across the border to a neighboring republic,[Pg 190]where they, in turn, might sow the seeds of the nextpopular uprising.

Why, that would only be fun, after all, and I could lookon it as compensation for the abject manner in which Ihad chased through these same streets on a former occasion.

Yes, I would be a revolutionist, and experience thewild exhilaration that possesses a Central American freestate in the throes of an upheaval.

I had done more than that for mere love of adventurein the past—surely, I could endure what came my waynow, since it was for a higher and far more worthy cause—loveof a woman.

I wondered if she were confined in the same suite ofrooms where Carmencita had led us on the night we defiedall Bolivar.

Robbins must be growing quite familiar with the alcalde’shome quarters by this time, he had prowled aboutit so extensively.

I could not but admire the positive ease with which heled me to the little court where the fountain flashed, andthe scent of flowers hung heavy in the night air; he neverhesitated as though at a loss to tell where his course lay.There was a flight of stairs leading to the long balcony orporch fronting the upper story, allowing the occupantsof those chambers an opportunity to sit where they couldlook down upon the enchanting scene below.

Twice we had met servants hurrying about their business,but Robbins was warned in time, and hustled meout of sight.

I would not have been astonished if he had made agesture that would bring these fellows to their knees, forthe spirit of a budding revolution appears to permeateeven the households of the head officials.

Nothing could surprise me after this, for was I not in[Pg 191]the land of enchantment, where one knows not what a dayor hour may bring forth?

Once we reached the long porch I began to get mybearings.

There was a passage that led to that wing of thehacienda not fronting on the court of the fountain—thewing that had been the scene of our former adventure.

Where was our worthy alcalde and his household?

Could they be lingering over their wine, unconscious ofthe volcano that was arranged to burst forth upon Bolivarthis night?

Now we plunged into the passage, and were heading,as before, straight to Hildegarde’s rooms.

My heart beat like the ticking of a watch, and a glowran through my whole frame.

The wizard even knew how to unfasten the door afterhe had knocked, and as he threw it open, my eyes fellupon the expectant face of my darling.

CHAPTER XXXII.

WE INVESTIGATE THE AZOTEA.

Hildegarde gave a cry of joy at sight of me, advanceda step, holding out her arms, and springing past Robbins,I snatched her to my heart.

Bless her, she did not shrink back from me in the least,and yet I am sure I must have presented a far fromfastidious appearance at that moment, not having beengiven an opportunity to tidy myself up after my immersionin the sea.

Perhaps I looked a little heroic—perhaps she remembered[Pg 192]that all had been done in her cause, and this glorifiedme in her eyes.

It was just as well.

Surely, we had little time to think of these things, whenfreedom must be our first aim.

Robbins appeared to look at it in a different light; Iimagined he felt sorry to see so fair a creature in the armsof so disreputable a wretch as I must have appeared.

At any rate, he came in and locked the door from theinside.

“Ah! madam, have pity on him, and give him half achance to wash up, to brush his hair and look like himself.Twenty-four hours in a dungeon after that swimin the sea—do you wonder he appears like a tramp?” hesaid.

Then I grew ashamed myself, and realized how verytough my appearance must be.

But Hildegarde felt no repugnance, only sweet, womanlypity.

“My poor Morgan—and all for me—oh, how I loveyou! Never mind, there is a long future for me to proveit. Come, here are water, soap and a towel, and here myown brushes. I know you’ll feel better for Mr. Robbins’suggestion.”

“Perhaps it may take some of the fierceness out of me,but I reckon I’ll make a good enough fighter, even as agentleman,” I remarked, grimly.

Somehow, when I saw Robbins nodding eagerly at mywords, a dim suspicion floated into my mind that perhapshe had a reason back of this desire to make me presentable;but it was so intangible, I failed to grasp it.

I believe that was really the most satisfactory toilet Iever made, for she stood there, holding the towel, andthen with her own hands gave me the brushes, whileRobbins dusted my clothes with a little whisk broom.

[Pg 193]

Five minutes completed the metamorphosis, and I feltlike a new man.

“Now,” I said, “let me greet you as a gentleman, andnot as a tramp.”

She willingly allowed me to infold her, and held up herpretty mouth to receive my warm kisses, for two years isa long time in which to do penance for one’s sins.

All of which must have been highly edifying to bachelorRobbins; I remembered him at length, and closed the littleseance.

The twinkle in his gray eyes may not have signifiedmuch, but I imagined he was more than a little amused.

“Now that ceremony is over, I’m ready to carry outany other suggestions of yours, old fellow. They’re allgood, every one of them. So, kindly give your orders.”

I saw Hildegarde regard me with some surprise, asthough she thought I should be the one to assume charge;you see, her ideas had jumped around to the other extreme,and she could not now conceive of my failing in anyundertaking, however difficult.

“You see, my dear, Robbins is engineering this affair—turnabout is fair play. Besides, while I’ve been coolingmy heels in that blessed dungeon and juggling withthe puzzling menu of frijoles, tortillas and water, he hasused his time to advantage, and allied us with the revolutionaryparty, so that we are no longer friendless in anenemy’s country—perhaps to-morrow we may even betouching elbows with the new president himself—whoknows?”

Plainly, I hardly believe Hildegarde understood one-halfthat I said, but her confidence in me was sublime,and she nodded and smiled as though it were revealed toher as plain as the largest bookprint.

Robbins went to the door and unlocked it.

I supposed we were about to make our exit from the[Pg 194]casa in an orderly way, reaching the street and proceedingto some quarters already arranged for in this comprehensivescheme of the mate, whence we of the male sexcould sally out when the alarm bells gave the signal thatevery revolutionist should be on the street.

It was not to be quite so easy.

Fortune had not grown weary of buffeting her votaries,and we were yet to experience the joy of winning whatwe secured.

When I heard the racket from below, I fancied the uprisinghad burst into a flame prematurely, and that thehouse of the alcalde was fated to bear its first fruits.

It was not so.

Robbins jumped at another conclusion, and, as it turnedout, his hazard was the true one.

My escape had become known through some mischance—Heavenalone knows how; perhaps some fellow venturingbelow, with a little scheme of his own on tap, thatconcerned the wine bin of the mayor, had heard theagonizing groans of Cerberus, and, being more valiantthan most of his kind, had investigated, with the result ofdiscovery.

That was the most reasonable supposition.

However, men care little about cause when the effect iswhat they have to battle with.

And those cries told Robbins the enemy must speedilybe at our door.

Already they swarmed up the stairs, and our escape inthat quarter seemed cut off.

Hildegarde had turned very pale, but she was a bravelittle woman, and possessed an abiding faith in two men.

“We must run for it—this way, quick. There is oneroad out, only one.”

Robbins spoke even while in motion, for time when[Pg 195]measured by heartbeats can not be wasted in long explanations.

My hand clutched her arm, and together we hurried inthe wake of our big friend, the mate.

I had not the faintest notion regarding the immediateplans of Robbins, until we came to a short flight of stepsleading aloft.

Here he stopped.

Then I saw where the desperate condition of affairs hadhurried him.

To the azotea!

These stairs led to the flat roof, where, in common withhouses in sub-tropical countries, the inmates have arrangedthings for comfort during many an evening whenthe breeze enjoyed here cools the heated cheek.

“Up with you, Morgan,” he said.

I did not waste breath in asking questions—Robbinsran the game, and mine must be the duty of blind, unswervingobedience.

Besides, the shouts were so close to us, I expected atany instant to see those who gave utterance to them.

So I assisted Hildegarde up.

As we emerged and gained the roof, I found the starsshining overhead.

It was a grand night for a revolution, the air so clearthat all sounds must carry near and far.

Bending down, I discovered that the opening in the roofthrough which we had come could be closed in time ofneed by a couple of wooden doors.

Robbins, upon gaining the azotea, bent down and quietlydropped these; it would hardly have mattered if he hadbanged them, since the noise below was so very deafening—theyhad found the nest empty, the bird flown.

Of course, search would follow—every nook and cornerof the big casa coming in for the closest investigation.

[Pg 196]

And some bright mind, groping for ideas, would thinkof the roof, when it must speedily be discovered where wewere at bay.

What then?

The first thing to be done, of course, was to secure thetrap by some means so that it could not be opened frombelow.

While Robbins stood upon it they might heave and batterall they pleased, without budging such a Colossus;but Robbins could not occupy all his time in making astatue of himself; besides, he would be needed elsewhere,and perchance, bullets might come soaring up through thattrap that would make his tenure of office very uncertain.

I had an idea.

My eye in roving about the azotea had already lightedupon some chairs and settees gathered under a section nearby that seemed to be protected by a temporary awning.

These I eagerly pounced upon, to discover to my greatjoy, they were for the most part of iron, painted to resistthe weather.

And Robbins, seeing me stagger under the weight ofthe largest settee I could find, sprang to assist in lootingthe pile.

By the time we had deposited a few of those articles ofgarden furniture upon the trap, it must needs be a modernSamson who could lift it from below.

The wind seemed blowing from a favorable quarter sofar as our cause was concerned.

Looking back after the lapse of time, when the madexcitement no longer sends the hot blood leaping likemolten lava through the veins, and when one can weighthings calmly and dispassionately, I am still of the positiveconviction that we made no mistakes, and in acceptingchances as they came were wisely guided in our selection.

They had found us out.

[Pg 197]

Already eager hands were hammering at the doubletrap, and a dozen voices united in declaring their ideasregarding the why and wherefore of such strange obstinacyon the part of the doors.

I heard the alcalde’s resonant voice—no danger of mistakingit even among two score—the same old stock offavorite Spanish swear words that had done such nobleduty in the gardens at the time we had held the roof ofthe toolhouse.

Where would they attack us, now that this avenue ofescape was cut off? Was there another trap which wehad failed to notice, or might we expect them to climbover the raised parapet that ran around the azotea?

I was trying to clear my mind of this puzzling questionwhen a shriek from Hildegarde smote upon my hearing,and galvanized me into action.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

ROBBINS LAUNCHES A THUNDERBOLT.

My opinion of Hildegarde had undergone a most miraculouschange of late.

Time was when I had been sorely inclined to believe herthe most frivolous and exacting of her sex; but a completerevolution seemed to have taken place within mymind; old things had passed away, and in the new dispensationshe stood out in transcendental glory, a queenamong women.

Believing, then, that she possessed uncommon attributesof good sense, I was quite positive she would not givetongue in such a clamorous way unless she saw reasonfor it.

[Pg 198]

There was.

A galvanic shock could not have given me a more rapidstart than was brought about by her voice. I chargedacross that azotea with hurricane fury.

It did not take me long to understand what was up,for Hildegarde was pointing to the parapet, where, in thestarlight I could see some sort of a figure crouching.

The man was in the act of crawling over, but when Imade a plunge in his direction he appeared to be seizedwith a sudden vertigo of fright, for his haste to retreatcaused him to lose his grip.

I heard him crash through the branches of a floweringtree below, and made up my mind we would not beseriously inconvenienced by this same climber again.

Where one had dared, there might be others.

I heard Robbins rushing along the escarpment opposite,and knew he had also caught a glimpse of some daringchap.

It became quite lively just then, what with our madplunges, the battering on the trap, the resonant voice ofour excited alcalde, and the shouts of his henchmen.

How it would end, I must confess, I had not the remotestidea.

Suppose they kept up this harassing, guerrilla methodof warfare indefinitely, we must sooner or later find ourselvesutterly tired out, until finally we dropped from mereexhaustion.

For myself, I could see no remedy, unless we made abold move, opened the trap and fought our way throughthe lot; perhaps the bark of our six-shooters might keepthe enemy at bay until we reached the street.

What would happen then I had not the least idea—mymind refused to grapple with so intricate a problem, especiallywhile my body was so vigorously engaged.

[Pg 199]

And, besides, with Hildegarde to protect, it was anutter absurdity.

The fun grew fast and furious, though for the time itwas apparently all on one side.

We tumbled several more citizens from their perch beforethey could actually secure a footing on the roof, whileothers, seeing us approach, withdrew to a lower and safercoign of vantage.

I almost pitied the poor devils, they were in such hotwater, with the terrible Yengees storming above and theexplosive alcalde shouting execrations at them below.

It might have been amusing enough to a disinterestedspectator, to see the labors of Hercules that Robbins andI performed, but to us it was a most serious matter,indeed.

My legs began to grow unsteady on account of so muchunwonted exercise on a warm evening, and I could feelmy tongue clinging to the roof of my mouth for wantof moisture.

Still they came—I wondered if the supply were inexhaustible,whether we were pitted against the whole cityof Bolivar.

At any rate, matters began to look exceedingly seriousto me.

Unable to grasp the situation and squeeze any comfortout of it, I turned to Robbins for aid. He had a fertilemind, and might be able to stir up some promising idea.

Besides, Robbins was running the campaign, and knewwhat connection he had with other sources of strength.

When I found myself near him, I gathered my breathand gasped:

“It’s a bad go.”

He said it was, and his readiness to agree with me ratherknocked the props from beneath my hopes.

“I’m nearly out of wind,” I ventured.

[Pg 200]

“Ditto,” he replied.

That was not very encouraging.

“What can be done?” I demanded, boldly.

“I know only one thing.”

“Then, let’s do it,” I shouted, as I made a wicked dashat a fellow who showed his head above the line of ourparapet barricade, and, having caused him to temporarilysuspend his intentions, I rushed back to Robbins.

Even his last idea, dernier ressort though it might be,offered a gleam of hope.

“I hate to—it ain’t time by an hour—perhaps the wholething might be ruined,” he said.

“Hang it! let her ruin—we’re gone if something doesn’thappen pretty quick,” I cried, desperately.

I might have continued in a similar vein, even growingsatirical and bringing in the early bird and worm fableto prove that it was no crime to be an hour ahead of time—wherewould we be sixty minutes later if this sort ofthing kept up—but, really, I lacked both the time andbreath to say it.

Nor did I feel in a particularly jovial mood just then,with anxiety for Hildegarde hanging like a millstonearound my neck.

“I’ll do it,” said Robbins, vehemently, after the mannerof an impulsive man who has swept all obstacles aside.

“Eureka! let her go!” I shouted, and immediately resumedmy Pawnee war dance around the combing of thewall in order to convince all bold spirits below what adangerous thing it would be for any among them to attemptthe raid.

Now, I was in the blackest state of ignorance concerningmy comrade’s intentions—I knew not whether he expectedto blow up the hacienda, together with all in it, or,conjuring a balloon from space, carry the three of us to aplace of safety.

[Pg 201]

All the same, when he declared he would “do it,” I believedhim, such was the implicit confidence I placed inthe man.

Besides, something had seemed to tell me all along thatRobbins had a card up his sleeve which he was loath toplay except the game reached a desperate stage.

My curiosity was naturally awakened, for I felt desirousof learning just how far Robbins might have dabbled inthe black arts, and what manner of magician he wouldprove.

Never wizard who brought about more astonishing results.

I saw him run the gamut of the line, whacking away atone or two imaginary heads in order to let those belowknow he was on duty.

This little promenade brought him slap up against thesmall tower where the alcalde’s alarm bell hung, the samethat had two nights previous thrilled us with its clamorousharangue.

I saw him lean over, and something of the truth flashedupon me—he groped until he had found the clapper,which with one mighty wrench he dislocated, holding itin his hand after the manner of a hammer.

Then he started in.

With quick, energetic strokes, he rang the anvil chorus,each brazen note smiting the air with the power of acannon shot, and rolling over old Bolivar as though aburst of tropical thunder had broken loose.

How it thrilled me!

As yet I had not fully grasped the whole idea—my firstimpression seemed to be that Robbins was trying to createa diversion, to add all he could to the clamor, under coverof which we might in some way escape; just as the pearldiver, upon finding a man-eating shark hovering above[Pg 202]him, stirs up the sand until the water is no longer clear,and he is able to gain his boat unseen.

For once, however, I failed to give my comrade sufficientcredit.

He had a better plan than this.

There was a deep significance in the wild alarm thatpealed out from the brazen-throated bell under his throbbingstrokes.

As I listened and wondered, I heard another bell beginto give tongue some distance away. Then a thirdtook up the refrain.

The air thrilled with the increasing din—I had neverheard a greater racket save in a boiler factory.

Nor was the noise confined to this one particular speciesof sound; men of leathern lungs bellowed upon the streets,sometimes singly, anon in chorus, guns were fired, andhorns blown as vigorously as though it were the AngelGabriel with his trumpet on resurrection day.

Altogether, the ringing of the alcalde’s bell, sendingthose sharp, strident notes, appeared to have been a signalsuccess, if one could count the noises of pandemoniumas a criterion.

Of course, all this must have an effect on the forces bywhom we were assailed.

Would they consider it an encouragement to continuetheir attack—that the whole city was up in arms, determinedthat this time the Americans, the hated Gringoes,should not escape scot-free?

If so, of what avail would Robbins’ anvil chorus be—surely,we had our hands full as it was, without freshrecruits.

I confess I was exceedingly stupid, it took me such anage to grasp the truth, and once seen the wonder was howI had ever been able to miss it.

In a very few minutes the whole city was apparently[Pg 203]engaged in the wildest confusion imaginable—why, thenight of the flower festa could not begin to compare withthis.

Squads and companies of men ran through the streets,bawling at the top of their voices.

At first this did not strike me as in any way singular,until the discharge of guns became more frequent, andthe heavy detonation of the brass cannon kept at headquartersbrightened my intellect.

Then, thrilled by a sudden suspicion, I bent my ear tocatch the word these brawlers were constantly shouting—itwas hard to accomplish this, such was the awful jumbleof sounds, but at length I succeeded.

“Toreado! Toreado!”

That was our old fire-eating general’s name; what Robbinshad said flashed into my mind, and in that secondof time I realized what the clang of the alarm bell hadbrought about, and that poor old Bolivar was wrestlingin the throes of another annual revolution.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

ONE GOOD TURN AND ANOTHER.

Perhaps there did not exist in that metropolis any onewho felt a keener interest in the uprising than myself.

True, some men flung ambition into the arena, and likeold Gen. Toreado, risked life and reputation in the affair.

I had the safety of Hildegarde to consider, and surelythat was of far more importance than my own individualambition.

Now that I had guessed what Robbins was up to, my[Pg 204]position on the azotea gave me a good chance to ascertainhow affairs were progressing elsewhere.

The tumult, instead of dying out, increased in volumeas new recruits joined the shouting insurgents.

What of our own enemies? Not a man jack of themhad shown himself since the alarm burst out.

Were they gone?

Had the coast been left clear?

Delicious thought; if true, how quickly had Robbins’muscular efforts borne fruit.

I quite yearned to put it to the test, to leave the roof andseek a more congenial atmosphere.

Robbins still whanged away.

He was a tireless plodder, yet I noticed that the tongueof the bell was now held in his left hand, and that hardlythe same energy was being expended as at first.

What did it matter, since his object had been accomplished,and the revolution was on—a full hour ahead ofthe arranged time.

I drew Hildegarde into my arms.

“Don’t be alarmed—it is only a little revolution downbelow; they seldom last long; and our friends, Carmencita’sfriends, are even now storming the citadel. Hark!”

As I spoke the brass cannon boomed again, provingthat sturdy resistance had been met.

This worried Robbins a bit.

He dropped the clapper, abandoned the bell, and hurriedover to my side.

“We must get away,” he said.

That agreed with my fancy, and I immediately gavehim to understand as much.

“The boys haven’t made the clean sweep they expected;you heard the gun—it may ruin all, for they won’t standup long before that. Once the tide sets in against Toreado,[Pg 205]all is lost. That’s the way things go down here,I’m told. Now, they need me.”

He never spoke truer words, and what was better, therecould be no boastfulness found in that simple declaration.

They did need some one at their head, some one whocould show more military strategy than the pompous Gen.Toreado.

It was settled—we must go—on my part to find a placeof refuge for Hildegarde, while Robbins sought fields ofglory.

Of course, it must be via the trap, since there was noother available route.

We hurried over to where the iron chairs and setteeswere piled up so very like a pyramid, and set to workdestroying its symbolic perfection.

When the last impediment had been hurled aside thedoors were quickly raised.

I would have led the van, but Robbins pushed meback.

“That’s my duty,” he declared, as he dropped out ofsight into the breach.

I half expected to hear the bark of his gun, but insteadcame his cheering roar:

“All clear below. Avast there, Morgan, down withyou!”

So I drew Hildegarde with me, and we left the roofthat had been the scene of this last escapade in our adventures.

There was just room for us to descend side by side,and below we found Robbins eagerly waiting to lead theway out.

Where was the doughty alcalde, where his merry menat this time?

A few minutes before they had been storming ourfortress with a pertinacity that deserved commendation,[Pg 206]and now the place where they had once been, knew themno longer; the rooms and corridors of the great casa appeareddeserted, and not a hand was raised in protest asour little party made for the main exit.

There was no legerdemain about it.

Our worthy alcalde had doubtless passed through manyrevolutions in his time—he knew only too well what thosecries and that tumult portended, and when a change ofdynasty was imminent far be it from him to allow suchminor matters as the capture of two Yengees to keep himfrom weightier business.

They were on the street, just as every man in Bolivarwas at that hour; when morning came the result wouldbe unanimous, whether the revolution succeeded or not,for in that region every one is outwardly heart and soulwith the powers that be.

We walked through deserted apartments, we traverseda patio where no sign of porter or watchman might beseen, and thus we came once more to the calle.

I felt a savage joy at being free—thirty hours in aBolivar dungeon is about all any ordinary man can stand,and since my rescue Robbins had kept me so busy that upto the present I was hardly in a condition to realize howmuch cause there was for rejoicing.

The riotous proceedings did not occur near the homeof the alcalde—it was at the public plaza where the excitingdrama was being played.

I knew Robbins was desirous of immediately thrustinghis individuality into the game, and now that the wayappeared clear, there seemed really no apparent reasonwhy he should not be allowed to follow his bent.

Surely I ought to be able to protect one little woman,armed as I was.

I told him this, at which he shouted:

“Good, Morgan! It was what I wanted to propose,[Pg 207]but hardly knew how you’d take it. Go right along thisstreet until you come to the cathedral—you know theplace. I think about there you’ll find the girl waiting toconduct you to safe quarters.”

“Hurrah!” I cried, enthusiastically.

“And, Morgan, one word more——”

“Go on—a dozen, if you like.”

“When you see her safe, come and help win. We’llneed you—we owe the boys something for their good will,and—I want ’em to see you in the thick of it, for, I forgotto tell you, they’ve adopted us, and we’re already citizensof this turbulent country.”

That was just like Robbins, rushing things, and withoutso much as “by your leave.” How did he know Iwould agree to forfeit my allegiance to the Stars andStripes, and join a little picayune revolutionary dot of aCentral American republic?

Then I remembered that I had been in a bad way whenhe did this; such a sacrifice was not of enormous magnitudewhen one considered that his liberty and life wereendangered. I swung around to his way of thinking thatthere was conditions requiring heroic measures—I wouldsooner be alive and a citizen of Bolivar than buried undersix feet of black soil.

“It’s all right, my boy—count on me before long. Icouldn’t keep out of it, you know. Now, get along withyou, and silence that gun,” as another tremendous dischargemade the adobe buildings around us shake.

Robbins ran off.

I declare, he seemed as happy and frolicsome as a schoolurchin let loose; some among us are so peculiarly constructedthat they never seem so joyous as when therelooms up a chance for a ruction.

Hildegarde had come through all right.

How she clung to my arm, and with what eagerness[Pg 208]she looked up in my face when we chanced to pass undera lamp which some worthy Bolivar citizen had placedabove the door of his dwelling.

It was worth going through fire and flood to feel thatI had won the love and worship of my wife for all time.

We walked along the gloomy calle in the direction ofthe cathedral of which Robbins had spoken, and all theway I saw not a single citizen abroad—without doubt theyhad been attracted early in the direction of the plaza,where momentous events, big with the future welfareof the country, were being enacted.

It was just as well, for I was in no humor to have mymotives questioned, and perhaps it might have gone sorewith any one who dared stand in the way.

Then the cathedral with its minarets and spires hove insight.

It was lighter now.

We had reached another street, where it appeared tobe public or private policy to keep lamps burning duringhalf the night.

I looked around.

This place, at least, was not deserted.

The church doors were wide open, and I could seenumerous people hastening within—whereupon I recollectedthat it was more or less the custom of the countryto spare even enemies who threw themselves before thealtar.

Many were veiled women, trembling with fear, hasteningto pray for the safety of those who were near and dearto them, and who might just then be engaged in warfareat that point where the crisis of the revolution was beingwaged; but a few men came also, eager to seek safetywithin those sacred walls until morning came and broughtintelligence which side had won the game.

All this gave me only passing interest, for I was not in[Pg 209]the humor to observe matters that failed to immediatelyconcern my affairs.

Carmencita—was she here?

We walked full in the light, so that we might be readilyseen by any one on the watch.

The move was rewarded, for I saw a figure dart outfrom behind a gargoyle that marked one portion of thecathedral front.

It was the girl.

She could not restrain her ecstasy, and gave a littlescream of delight as she pounced upon Hildegarde, kissingher hand and wetting it with her tears.

Bless her heart! She had never known so good andloving a mistress, and I was not the one to blame her forshowing emotion.

It was not my desire to linger.

The tumult kept raging, and I knew I was needed at thefront—Hildegarde was safe, and, as Robbins said, I owedsomething to “the boys,” as he called them, whose uprisingan hour before the time appointed had rendered our escapepossible.

So I begged Carmencita to lead the way to where shemeant to keep her mistress, incidentally declaring myselfeager to return and assist her compatriots to victory.

That inspired her, and in a very few minutes she ledus into a modest house just beyond the cathedral; here Ikissed my wife a brief good-by. I rushed off to witnessand participate in the strange scenes that were occurringat the citadel.

[Pg 210]

CHAPTER XXXV.

HOW I CHARGED THE CITADEL.

Now, I reckon that during the course of my nomadiclife I have looked upon as many strange scenes as fall tothe lot of the average biped; but it so chanced that up tothis particular time it had never as yet been my fortuneor misfortune to participate in an actual, bona-fide revolution.

Of course, I had a pretty fair idea as to what such anupheaval might be, especially in these small but seethingcountries bordering the Caribbean Sea, and experiencedmore or less of a desire to ascertain at close quarterswhether my impressions were correct or faulty.

When I quitted the modest little building that shelteredHildegarde, I ran down the street to the cathedral firstof all.

This being somewhat of a central point, I was in a fairposition to get my bearing and head straight for theplaza.

At least, one thing was positive—the little affair had notas yet been decided in favor of either party, for thetumult was still in full blast.

Indeed, I was myself of the opinion that it had increasedrather than diminished, and found considerable to amuseand interest me in the remarkable lung power of these inflammablepeople.

As I advanced, I found that I had no longer cause tocomplain on account of a scarcity of people upon thestreets, for men were to be seen in knots and clusters,men carrying guns and men without, but all apparentlyeager to have a hand in the fray.

I also noticed that they wore green in their hats, green[Pg 211]being the sign manual of the party that was out—if thegovernment won the fight it was a very simple matter tochange this for a red feather or ribbon; thus readily doesthe average Central American republican adapt his politicsto the present need.

That these revolutions were a sort of guerrilla warfareI knew from hearsay—no pitched battles were fought, orrarely, at least; and the party that by stress of circumstanceswas forced to give ground in the encounter, aftera fair trial of strength, accepted the decision philosophically,the leaders ran for the friendly border, the rankand file affiliated with the victors, and peace once moredescended for a brief interval on the republic.

But such a thing as continued peace has not as yet beenknown in these countries, nor was it in Mexico until thefirm hand of Diaz seized the wheel of the ship of state.

Let us hope for a Diaz in each republic, whose astutestatesmanship and unbending will can force them alongthe path of progress and crush every threatening evil.

The soldiers holding the citadel were few in number,but they had the gun.

That was what dismayed the enemy, who had neverbeen drilled to face cannon; had it been a Gatling or apompom, I could not have blamed them, for such destructiveweapons might sweep the plaza, and leave winrowsof disabled revolutionists there; but a simple brass gun—well,they were away behind the times.

What I wanted now was to find Robbins.

Many of the insurgents looked at me curiously whilethey skulked behind angles and were ready to drop flat onthe ground whenever the big gun roared.

Carmencita had, with her own hands, fastened a greenribbon upon the sombrero I had secured, so that I appearedto be en regle.

Even as I reached the plaza, I saw a brilliant flash of[Pg 212]fire from the citadel opposite, then came a thunderousdischarge, a rattle of adobe bricks in a building just to theright of me, followed by an angry outburst of shouts.

Jove! I fancied I felt the windage of the ball as itsped past.

At any rate, it appeared that the gunners were notfiring blank cartridges—they meant business.

Instead of giving me a fright, this thing did just thecontrary—it aroused my fighting blood. I felt a hot thrillpass over my whole frame, as though I had been suddenlyimmersed in a fiery furnace like Shadrach and his comradesof old. Yes, it was easy for me to understand nowwhat was meant when they spoke of the fierce battle spiritsweeping over a man, and transforming a novice into aveteran.

That one shot, added to the warlike shouts, had accomplishedthis transformation.

I seemed to see in that gun the one thing on earth Ilonged to possess—all else faded into insignificance besideit, and I was even willing to undergo every manner ofbodily torment and deprivation in order to accomplish itscapture.

Alone, I could do nothing.

Here were men—if I could only harangue them andinflame them with but a modicum of my fierce desire, howeasy it would be to accomplish the overthrow of thecitadel.

Apparently, it took the defenders several minutes tocharge their gun after a shot; this gave oceans of time fora rush across the open to gain the shelter of such buildingsas flanked the barracks.

And, wonderful to relate, this simple trick had not beenturned—indeed, to all appearances, had not even been considered.

Truly, there was a crying need of leaders among these[Pg 213]good people, men who had the brain to plan and the nerveto execute.

They had fallen into a rut, and even the uncommon barkof a cannon appeared to have paralyzed their powers.

Could I enthuse them?

At least, it was worth the effort.

Accordingly, I sprang upon the step of a house aroundthe corner, and began to hold forth as best I could—itwas necessary for me to bellow at the top of my voice,but this helped to disguise any blunders of which I mightpossibly have been guilty.

The wearers of the green came flocking around.

Doubtless, it was no novelty for them to hear a hotharangue, but my style was entirely different from thatto which they were accustomed; instead of urging themon, I asked them to follow me in an assault on the citadel—moreover,I explained my simple plan.

It was an easy task to work upon these fellows, alreadyat the battle pitch—it required few of the orator’s tricks toarouse them until they were a shouting crowd, breathingvengeance on the defenders of the barracks, and clamorousthat I should lead them into the breach.

This was as I wanted it.

I asked for nothing more.

At the time, I was not moved by any other purpose thana desire to assist these friends, who, in a measure, hadbeen the means of my own rescue, as well as that of Hildegarde;perhaps, too, I forced myself to believe in the corruptionof the government, and that an upheaval mightpurify the atmosphere.

At any rate, I am very sure I entertained no selfish motives,beyond the natural longing of a soldier enlisted forthe war, who is desirous of seeing victory perch upon hisstandard.

[Pg 214]

And yet, although ignorant of the fact at the time, I wasmaking history.

Of that, more anon.

Having raised the fighting spirits of my compatriots tothe desired pitch, it would not do for me to let them cooldown again—I must strike while the iron was hot.

There were at least twenty of them, all told.

Whether every man would follow me across the openremained to be seen.

So we clustered near the corner, only waiting for theheavy discharge that was to serve as the signal for ourrush.

I cast one last glance over the scene, so that I mightnever forget it—the swarthy faces, the glittering eyes,the determination to be discovered on every set countenance—allthese things were a part of that weird pictureon which the flickering lights of the plaza fell.

Then came a thunderous roar, a crash of falling masonry,and a house toppled over just where we gatheredfor the tiger spring, as though the gunners had suspectedthe danger that lurked around our corner.

I remember shouting at the top of my voice, of whirlingaround the corner, and seeing the whole crowd follow me.

Another moment, and we were hustling across the widesquare, heading for the barracks.

It was not in the nature of things that we could thusdash across the open, with plenty of light to disclose ourmovements, and expect to escape without a baptism offire.

The soldiers who held the citadel were armed withgood guns, and could send volleys of lead into the plaza;but I had a contempt for their marksmanship, and believedthat if my force suffered it would be through accident.

Of course, we took precautions; every man as he ran[Pg 215]leaped from side to side, or sprang into the air like adeer.

Altogether, I imagine we must have presented a mostastonishing spectacle as we thus moved across the opensquare, where, on most nights, the military band was wontto discourse sweet music to the keen enjoyment of a differentkind to-night—the boom of cannon, the crackling ofrifles, the fierce shouts of excited rivals and perchance thewailing of unfortunates in whom flying missiles hadfound a lodgment.

This sight, which I would have given something to haveseen, I missed, for my attention was wholly taken up withwhat lay in front.

Our sudden and surprising appearance had, I imagine,somewhat disconcerted and demoralized the defenders ofthe barracks, for we were allowed to cover at least one-thirdof the distance before a single shot was fired.

After that they came hot and fast enough, but sent atrandom, after the manner of men who had become so rattledthat they no longer thought it incumbent to take aim,but simply discharged their pieces.

Two-thirds over, and now we opened on the homestretch.

I kept my eyes on the buildings, determined to knowwhat was transpiring, so that I might take advantageof any opening that appeared.

One came, but, singularly enough, I shrank from it asfrom the black plague; for, through the embrasure in theheavy wall a shining object was thrust forth which I hadno difficulty in recognizing as the muzzle of the cannon.

It bore directly on me, as I could readily see.

My ideas of valor and glory did not necessitate my remainingthere to accept the compliments of the brass gun—indeed,I never made a more rapid change of base in mylife than when I discovered what I was up against, at[Pg 216]the same time whooping out a warning for the men whowere supposed to be following pell-mell at my very heels.

That was as close to eternity as I have ever come thusfar on my journey through life—even when struggling inthe mad surf after the wreck of the yacht I hardly thinkI made a more narrow escape, for the windage of the passingball knocked me flat upon my back.

I was not hurt, at least seriously, and, having the sameold fierce desire to overwhelm these gunners and take thefort by storm, I struggled to my feet, expended what littlebreath I had remaining in a shout of defiance, and oncemore took up my charge.

Impulse, not reason, carried me on—I could not havetold why I did this thing had the question been fired atme—perhaps some power beyond my control. Destiny, ifyou please, was in charge of my affairs.

Again the rattle of guns burst out—flashes came fromvarious parts of the building, and the bullets tore allaround me, but I was unharmed; I, who seemed to beara charmed life, ran on, still shouting defiance, until atlength, I arrived in front of the heavy door of the citadel.

Then, having covered the ground, I turned to give myvaliant band orders to attack, only to find that not a movingfigure was to be seen upon the whole broad plaza.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

THE LAST STRAW.

The discovery appalled me at first.

Had they all been borne down by that last cannon discharge,even as I was, and failed to rise again? I glancedhither and yon about the open square, seeking piles ofmangled bodies; but, strange to say, they were not visible.

[Pg 217]

The mystery increased—I could swear the men hadstarted out all right when I did—what, then, had becomeof them?

It is hard to break through established custom, and assoon as the rifles of the besieged began to spit out fire,habit compelled my followers to seek some sort of refuge—theywere not there to be killed, if such a thing couldbe averted.

Consequently, some dropped behind the band stand inthe center of the square, while others ran helter-skelter toeither side, seeking shelter under the protecting walls ofneighboring buildings.

I could not blame them, for it had been pretty warmout there.

When these valorous souls saw me beating upon thedoor of the citadel with a rude battering ram I had pickedup, they grasped the situation, and began to run in mydirection, always bending low, as if in fear of suddenshots.

They are a cautious race, these citizens of Bolivar,which accounts for their living through so many revolutions.

Speedily I found I had at my beck and call a devotedlittle band, at least half a score in number, with which Imight accomplish wonders.

We laid out to smash that door in a hurry, and thoughit was supposed to be made in a very substantial way, itcould not withstand so vigorous an assault as the beam,rushed by ten pairs of arms, brought against it.

I had made a pleasing discovery.

Among the many shouts that went to make up thechorus all around, I distinguished plain English huzzas,and made out that Robbins was leading a party in a desperatecharge upon the rear of the citadel.

Well, that was a hot time in Bolivar, an occasion never[Pg 218]to be forgotten in any change of administration the futuremight bring.

Never had so desperate a battle been waged betweenthe opposing forces, never such a charge made as our rushacross the open.

Guerrilla tactics must be relegated to the past inBolivar; henceforth one would hear of Gatling guns andMauser rifles, and the party in power would be hard todislodge; and perhaps with the increased slaughter the desireto revolutionize might weaken.

Thus would Robbins and his Gringo comrade haveplayed the part of missionaries.

That door—how it hung on.

We battered for all we were worth—why, the men hadby this time become so enthused that they forgot the respectthey had formerly entertained for hot lead, forgotto dodge when a shot of vivid fire shot out from the wall,and in consequence several were knocked over.

Others arriving, eager to be in at the death, were readyto take their places.

And the door was already a sad wreck.

I encouraged them by precept and example.

It was really fine to see how they caught the spiritof the affair—they looked to me for orders as though Ihad been a god sent down from above to win their cause,which had seemed forlorn enough up to the time of myappearance.

I really enjoyed the experience—it does not come toevery man to be suddenly elevated to the top of theheap.

A few more affectionate taps and that tenacious old doormust let go; who would have thought it could have maintainedsuch obstinacy after starting so easily?

And then—well, unless the brave garrison quickly ranup the white flag there was bound to be serious trouble[Pg 219]in store for them—my hearties had reached that feverpitch where no mercy would be shown an unyielding foe.

The door gave way with a crash, just as the gunboomed for the last time.

I could hear Robbins shouting still, and this told mehe was in the land of the living—I also had reason tobelieve he had succeeded almost as well in the rear as wehad in front, which complication must convince the governmentforces their cause was in a bad way.

When the last push sent the battered door in, we gave afierce shout of joy, and sprang forward to storm thecitadel.

Having gone through such a whirl of excitement, I hadno longer any thought concerning myself or my personalsafety; men under these same conditions lead forlornhopes into the jaws of death, either to lay down their livesor come out heroes for history’s pages.

I did neither, but, all the same, I had the experience,and would always cherish the memory of what was themost remarkable sensation of my life.

We went in.

I was the first man to cross the smashed door.

The interior was dim with powder smoke that almostchoked me with its suffocating fumes.

Never mind, we had made a breach through which itcould escape readily enough.

Through this haze human figures appeared but dimly,though they loomed up giant-like in size.

“Surrender!” I bawled, in Spanish. “You are bravemen, but the day is ours. We would spare your lives!Surrender!”

“Toreado! Toreado!” howled my followers, as theyscrambled wildly over the broken door.

That was a shibboleth with which to conjure, now that[Pg 220]the revolution had been won, and I was not in the leastsurprised to hear it echoed by the soldiers of the citadel.

They had done their duty; they had stood by theirguns as long as any hope remained, and now that theyfound themselves up against the inevitable, it was onlythe part of policy to accept it with a fair degree ofequanimity.

So they, too, shouted for the pompous old general, provingthat they were as ready to serve him as they had thelate president, Salvator.

It was charming, idealistic, this change of front—“theking has run away! Long live the king!”

I was somewhat out of breath, which could not be muchwondered at, considering all I had gone through in thepast half an hour.

Now that the fierce conflict was over, and the shoutsof anger changing to those of triumph, I discovered howweak I was, and that my knees actually knocked together,such was the baneful effect of the intense nervous strain.

So I leaned up against the still warm cannon to recovera little of my lost powers.

I found time now to be astonished at myself, and toconsider how it was this wonderful battle spirit, inheritedfrom worthy ancestors, had lain dormant in me all theseyears, its presence unsuspected.

My work was done.

I felt that I had surely repaid my debt, and with compoundinterest, too.

After all, it would be something to remember, somethingto talk about in the future, that I had taken an activepart in such a hot night’s work.

Grimly, I hoped the boys would not be disappointed inthe pompous old warrior they had selected for their nextpresident; it would be sad if, after all this meritorious[Pg 221]work, the whole thing would have to be gone throughwith again ere another year rolled around.

Still, what did it matter to me? I hoped and expectedere two months had gone by to have found a steamyacht to my liking in English waters, and to be flying mypennant far up the storied Nile, with Hildegarde, no other,as my guest and comrade.

Robbins loomed up.

The smoke had grown lighter, so that we were able todiscover one another.

He descended upon me with his usual impetuous rush.

“You’ve gone and done it, my boy—fate is in this thing,dead sure. That charge of yours was the finest thing Iever saw. Come, now, no laughing it off; I’m in earnest.And, as for the boys, they’re fairly paralyzed—it’s onevery man’s tongue: ‘Señor Morgan won the fight alone!Everything we owe to him!’ Haven’t I heard them?They fairly worship you, my boy. Yes, it’s surely fate.”

That was the way he rattled on.

I had to smile.

Think of it, just two nights before, and these same“boys,” some of them, at least, were hot for my blood,chasing me through the twisting calles of Bolivar, andover the bay.

Well, they say time brings its revenges.

“What of the fort out on the point?” I asked.

He snapped his fingers.

“Never has held out from a land attack. A messengerwill bring ’em to terms. The whole shooting match isours, Morgan. It’s a big thing for us, d’ye know?”

“At any rate, we’ve paid our debt, and can leave Bolivarin good standing.”

“Leave Bolivar—h’m! I don’t know about that—perhapsour duty is not yet done.”

[Pg 222]

“But—President Toreado—he will not try to detain usafter we stood by him?”

I said this with growing uneasiness, for Robbins appearedso deucedly mysterious.

“It won’t be, and never can be President Toreado—theold general has flunked.”

“What—killed?”

“One of the few who fell—shot down at my side in askirmish—yes, he’s a dead herring.”

“But—there came a king who knew not Joseph—whowill be president—not the alcalde, surely?”

Robbins burst into a guffaw.

“Humbug! You ask me who the new party have selectedfor their leader, their president? Listen, and youwill hear his name.”

He left me, and ran out. I heard his haranguing thecrowd in a horrible jumble of English and dog Spanish;then came tremendous shouts, and one mighty roar burstupon my tympanums:

“Señor Morgan!—el presidente!—Señor Morgan!”

Great Scott! they meant me!

CHAPTER XXXVII.

THE AGE OF ENCHANTMENT.

They say some men are born great, some achieve greatness,while others have greatness thrust upon them.

I must have been of the class last named.

You could have almost knocked me down with afeather when the tremendous truth burst upon my intellect.

[Pg 223]

Various significant hints which had been dropped oflate by this wonderful companion of mine now seemed totake form and substance, and all pointed toward this onegrand climax.

I had been densely obtuse not to guess it, but my mindwas occupied by so many other things, principally concerningHildegarde, that, after all, there was some excuse.

And, without knowing it, I had of late been an understudyof the great Gen. Toreado—been in training, as itwere, for the exalted office to which he aspired.

Well, it was more than a joke.

My first inclination was to decline; to put my foot downfirmly and decline that not on my life would I accept theposition, even though it were offered on a golden salver.

Then I hesitated.

I believe that it is commonly accepted as a truth thatthe man who deliberates is lost.

I seemed to grasp the whole business in one comprehensivesweep; there was Robbins, eager and expectant, whowould be grievously shocked if I declined; then there werethe dear “boys,” howling away so merrily, and with suchsweet assurance outside, it would surely give them painif a candidate for the exalted station of president were todecline after their first choice had been shot down.

Besides, how about that debt I owed them? Could Igrieve the honest fellows after they had so nobly receivedme as a citizen, and had risen one whole hour in advanceof the programme, just to oblige us, who were in sorestraits?

Perish the thought!

I would temporarily make a martyr of myself, and remainas long as Hildegarde were satisfied. It wouldbe something to lord it in the city where I had met withsuch a strange mingling of good and bad luck.

Besides, there was a temptation to a man of my Yankee[Pg 224]blood to see how these people would take to reform government,and the advantages of the day.

Why, perhaps in a year’s time a score of wonderfulthings might mark the footsteps of progress—telephones,electric cars, modern guns for defending the forts, andan army that meant business, and would command therespect of all neighboring republics.

It loomed up before me.

Such is the magic of ambition; the calling of my nameoutside beckoned me to fields of glory, and—I yielded.

Perhaps the excitement through which I had passedhad something to do with it, for the smell of burnt powderwas still in the air, and my nerves quivered with theirrecent flush; but deep down in my heart, I am free to confessthat this sudden ambition was born in quite anotherdesire—Hildegarde would see how grievously she hadwronged me in the past when she contemptuously declaredthat I must be lacking in those attributes that go to fashiona man into heroic mold.

True, I had already proven the falsity of that belief,and her repentance had been sincere; but man is weak,and the temptation to shine, even temporarily, in this fiercelight of a public idol, was irresistible.

A president in an hour—few men could boast such suddenelevation to power.

Unconsciously, I drew my figure erect, and assumed aconsequential air.

Upon which Robbins laughed outright, knowing, thesly dog, that the golden bait had been swallowed, andthat I was hooked fast—but he never guessed the true reasonof my acceptance.

“Hurrah! It’s arranged, then—you’ll give them a runfor their money!” he said, shaking my presidential handwith great enthusiasm; and I really believe he enjoyed my[Pg 225]sudden rise to popularity better than if it had been himselfwhom the good people had selected.

“On one condition,” I replied, soberly.

“What’s that?”

“Your promise to remain, and be my right-hand man—secretaryof war.”

Whereupon, Robbins whistled.

“Just as you say, Mr. President. If you can stand it,I don’t see why I shouldn’t. And won’t we have funreforming abuses and bringing about wonderful changesin this country?”

You see Robbins must have been possessed of the samephilanthropical spirit that moved me—the mule-drawnstreet car, the dingy lamps on the corners, the slow deliveryof messages, and the chaotic condition of the“army,” had all appealed irresistibly to his progressivenature; what he yearned to see, believing destiny hadwrought this miracle in my behalf, was a city lighted byelectricity, palatial cars driven by the same power, telephonewires reaching in every direction, messenger boysdarting over asphalt streets on wheels, and a model littlearmy, well dressed, armed with the latest weapons, andcapable of crushing any incipient rebellion.

“Then we’ll call it settled, Mr. Secretary; only I reservethe right and privilege of resigning at any time I wish. Ihave a wife, you know, and she may desire to return toNew York, when the novelty of seeing me president hasworn off, and I would not let her go alone.”

“That’s right. Now, let’s show ourselves to the boys—they’llexpect a speech, I reckon.”

“They’ll get all they want,” I declared.

So Robbins led me outside.

It was a proud moment.

The plaza had almost filled up with citizens, and everyman and woman wore green, which would be the fashionable[Pg 226]color now that the revolution had been an accomplishedfact.

They fairly howled at sight of me, though I am of theopinion many of the same worthy fellows had howled atme quite recently.

Perhaps the majority of them were as yet somewhat inthe dark as to what the whole thing signified; but theywere always ready to join in the general shouting.

I felt my position, and became imbued with a sense ofmy responsibilities.

Raising my hand, I begged an opportunity to speak afew words, and at the silenzio that passed around, theshouts gradually ceased until not a sound was heard.

Five hundred pairs of eager eyes were fastened uponmy face.

Then I addressed them.

What I said has passed beyond my memory, but Robbinsdeclares it was the best thing he ever heard—a“corker,” he called it, in his original and emphatic way.

I believe I thanked them for the great honor, expressedmy deep regrets at the untimely death of so valorous awarrior as Gen. Toreado, and then launched into a prophecyof what the nation would be within two years, whenher full greatness came upon her.

Enthusiasm was in the air—they shrieked and shoutedat my predictions concerning their standing at the headof all Central American republics, and I believed I hadthem with me heart and soul.

Alas! I had something to learn concerning the ficklenessof these changeable people.

In the front rank was the stout alcalde, who wore thebiggest kind of a green feather in his hat, and shoutedmore vociferously and more frequently than any two ofhis neighbors.

[Pg 227]

He always amused me, and I contemplated havingmuch fun at his expense during my tenure of office.

There were padres in the crowd—I could see their peculiarshovel-shaped hats here and there, but they did notjoin in the racket, and I noted that their faces worefrowns.

Here, then, was a cause for trouble; they evidentlyfeared I might attempt to bring the Yankee idea of freedomof religious worship to be a part of the national constitution,knocking out the established church.

Sooner or later I might expect trouble from theseworthies.

When my impassioned harangue was finished—andhow I wished Hildegarde could have been present to haveheard me make that address and see how they cheeredme to the echo—I stood there for an hour, shaking handsin the good American way, with all comers.

They laughed and joked and seemed to take it as a speciesof novel entertainment; but secretly, I promised erelong to spring upon Bolivar and its citizens some surprisesthat would startle them out of their Rip VanWinkle sleep.

My arm grew sore and weary.

I was beginning to learn what it means to be a popularpresident; but, of course, I would grow accustomed toall these things in time.

Robbins did likewise.

He seemed to enjoy it hugely, for he did not allowanything like worry or anxiety to disturb the pleasure ofthe auspicious occasion.

At length, when I believe I had shaken hands two orthree times with every man, woman and child inside theprecincts of Bolivar, the function was declared closed.

Robbins, as master of ceremonies, called for threecheers, and they almost shook the citadel with the volume[Pg 228]of sound; really, it looked as though the new Gringopresident had jumped into the affections of the people ata single bound, if one could judge from the enthusiasmthey manifested.

Sounds are easily made—brawling brooks are evershallow—still water runs deep.

I know that now, if I forgot it then.

“Come, I’m tired,” I said to the secretary of war.

He gave me his arm, like a true diplomat; I waved myhand to my people, and received another series of cheers,and yells, and—well, what in an American city would betermed “cat calls,” but which I suppose in Bolivar representedthe best effort at applause of a community yearningto be elevated.

We walked away in a dignified manner.

Already I seemed to feel the carking cares of public officeupon me.

Yes, I even fancied I saw a skulking figure of a padredodge around a corner, and the remembrance of the summaryway presidents are frequently changed in these hotrevolutionary countries gave me a shiver.

“Well, how d’ye like it as far as you’ve gone, Mr.President?” chuckled Robbins.

I told him I was not prepared to answer that question,as I had had no opportunity to analyze my feelings onthe subject; perhaps inside of twenty-four hours I couldtell better.

“They gave you a good send-off, Morgan.”

“Well, yes; but we presidents early learn to measurepublic applause lightly. Those same boys, as you callthem, chased us two nights ago, eager for our blood, andmay be doing the same thing at some future time,” I remarked,loftily.

Robbins laughed gleefully.

“Glad to see you haven’t had the wool pulled over your[Pg 229]eyes by all that racket, governor. We must be eternallyon the alert down here, and meet danger on the wing.You can depend on me to keep in touch with things, andif the kettle boils over soon or late I’ll have the pathready for skipping out.”

His words lifted a load from my heart, for I was worryingabout Hildegarde, should any trouble result fromthis yielding on my part to the impulse of high ambition.

With such a steady and true comrade at my side, whocould blame me for accepting the office that had beenthrust upon me, fraught with peril though it be?

Now we passed the cathedral; people were still goingand coming, and I could hear the chant of praise fromwithin, as though the victory had reached even this holyplace and been favorably received.

It calmed my excited spirits, for, somehow, the sweetmusic seemed like a benison—I felt that I had been instrumentalin working good to this people, and all sortsof ridiculously Quixotic resolutions passed through mybrain.

The little house at last.

In answer to our knock the door opened, and I sawHildegarde, eager and trembling, awaiting me.

“Madam,” said Robbins, seriously, “it is my duty, aswell as pleasure, to inform you that your husband hasjust been declared president of this glorious republic.”

[Pg 230]

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

A PRESIDENT FOR ONE NIGHT.

Hildegarde had intended to rush forward and throwherself into my arms. Poor girl! She had suffered tormentsduring the last two hours, while the uproar continuedaround the citadel.

At Robbins’ astonishing declaration she stood still andlooked at me with startled eyes.

Really, there was cause for surprise; it is not everywoman who bids her husband adieu as a plain, everydayAmerican citizen, and welcomes him back two hours lateras the president of a bellicose little republic.

“Morgan—is it true?” she gasped.

“I’m afraid I must plead guilty to the indictment. Ididn’t dream of accepting the honor, but, you see, theywere so very urgent, under the belief that I had been ofsome little assistance in the capture of the citadel, that Iwas overwhelmed.”

“Some little assistance? Madam, he is too modest bylong odds; why, he carried the whole business by themight of his valor, and made the most gallant charge Iever saw or heard of, barring none—why, the whole cityresounds with his praise, and there was no other choicefor the presidency after Toreado went down; they demandedit, and public opinion is irresistible here as in theStates.”

“Come, Mr. Secretary, you draw it too strongly,” Isaid, in expostulation; but, all the same, this fervid praisewas as balm of Gilead to my soul, for Hildegarde’s faceshone with ardent admiration.

Truly, my cup was running over, and the hour of mytriumph at hand.

[Pg 231]

Perhaps I should have remembered that pride usuallygoes before a fall.

“Oh, Morgan, to think of you a president in a night!I must be dreaming,” she said, from the shelter of myarms, to which she had fled.

“Think how little I expected such a thing a few hoursago when in the alcalde’s old dungeon. Liberty was thenthe height of my ambition, and I would have laughedany one to scorn had they prophesied such a tremendouspush up the ladder of fame. But this is a wonderfulcountry, my dear, and men are made or unmade in anhour. It’s philosophy to take things as they come. Honorsare fleeting—some day it will be ex-president with me,and perhaps we’ll be making a bolt for the border.”

I might have said more in this vein, but I saw that itworried her, and no matter what anxieties might loomabove the horizon. I felt that I had no right to burdenher with them.

Anyhow, she seemed very proud to have a president fora husband; it was an experience few women may enjoy.

Her admiration made me forget what I had enduredsince we separated; why, all that was an ugly dream, toarise at times like a phantom, conjured to existence by adesire to compare present happiness with past misery, andthen allowed to sink back into its grave again.

She insisted on hearing the story of the attack on thecitadel, and between us we gave it to her. When Robbinsthought I faltered in touching upon my own sharein the exploit, he rushed in and described with the tongueof a romancist the tragic events preceding and succeedingthe smashing of the door. So that, taking it in all, Irather imagine the little woman received a pretty strongimpression of what that affair was like.

She kept squeezing my arm sympathetically all thewhile, as though she appreciated how vast an amount of[Pg 232]heroic blood it required to do such things in these daysof modern destructive engines of war; and when I incidentallymentioned being knocked down by the dischargeof the cannon, she threw her arms suddenly aboutmy neck—Jove! I would cheerfully allow myself to beprostrated by such concussion of air again and again if byso doing I could merit so sweet a recompense.

At last it was all told.

The hour had grown very late.

We began to realize how sleepy we were, and I knewI must personally secure some rest if I expected to takeup the burden of my official business on the followingday.

Then it was I experienced the first qualms of burningregret at having been lured into acceptance; why, onlyfor that I could look forward to sweet idleness, sailing ahandsome yacht over the blue waters of the summer seas,and up the grand, historic Nile; whereas now I must assumethe burden of governing a nation.

It made me sad.

Still, why should I complain, so long as Hildegardewere content to remain with me and share my lot? Paradisewould be where she was.

I ought to be thankful indeed.

Carmencita was so very proud of me she could notseem to take her eyes from my face, and I even felt embarrassed,which showed I had not yet become accustomedto being worshiped as a hero.

There was but a poor chance of securing much comforton this night in these humble quarters; perhaps, whenI had been duly inaugurated, we might have a presidentialpalace on the order of the alcalde’s big affair, where wecould entertain.

Hildegarde was led to a cot where she might snatch[Pg 233]a little sleep, covered with a shawl; while I, being an oldcampaigner, asked for nothing better than a chair.

As for the secretary of war, he promptly declared thatsince old Bolivar seemed determined to make a night ofit, he believed it a part of his new duties to be upon thestreet, studying the character of the people, and enteringinto the spirit of the hour.

If ever there was a watchdog, Robbins was one—ajewel beyond compare; and so long as he remained onguard, small reason had I to worry.

I busied myself in seeing that Hildegarde was comfortable,and even insisted upon placing the Mexicanshawl over her.

Then I kissed her good-night, and went away to theouter room, where I was to compose myself in a chair asbest I could.

Little did I expect to sleep—there were too many wonderfulthings rioting through my mind to allow of mysettling down.

I began to believe that, after all, Dame Fortune, wearyof giving me hard knocks, had determined to shower favorsin my lap; my recent experience was almost as dazzlingas anything from the romantic pages of the “ArabianNights,” of which I had been so fond as a boy.

Where would it end?

Had I done wisely to accept this new burden?

Would not my lot have been more abundantly blessedwith happiness had I put aside ambition and refused thecrown, like Cæsar is reported to have thrice done?

Now that the thing had been carried through, I wassorry, and wished to be free—free to go where I willedwith my sweet Hildegarde, and leave these regions ofplots and counterplots, of uprisings and revolutions, andpresidents who were made in an hour.

[Pg 234]

Would the city of Bolivar ever quiet down again, Iwondered.

It was just as noisy as before, and to all appearancesthe people meant to make a full night of the change indynasty; revolutions only occur periodically, and must betaken advantage of.

The inhabitants were a queer set.

Would I ever understand them?

When the novelty had worn off, would their old-timeprejudices, fanned into a flame by the sly padres, arousea storm which might threaten to overwhelm me and mymushroom fortunes?

But there was sagacious Robbins to stand between, toswing the army to my side, and quench the rising fires.

Bah! what need of worry, and on the first night too.

All might go well, and a grateful country, yoked toprogress, rise up and call me blessed.

At least the thought was pleasant.

So I sat there and conjured up all these fancies, beingin the humor to enjoy them. You see, I had never beena president before, never even had the yearning for office,and the experience was so very novel it quite demoralizedme.

Other men have worked to that end, have laid wiresto gain the office, and pulled them, too, so that when theresult was attained they only realized their dreams.

With me it was so sudden.

Sleep? I could not have lost myself had I been offereda premium for so doing.

I remember, distinctly, that three times I arose and tiptoedto the connecting door, to peep into the other room.You see I was a bit skeptical, and wished to assure myselfshe was there, and that the whole thing was not thefabric of a dream.

Carmencita sat beside her in a chair; the child was[Pg 235]sound asleep, and yet the smile on her face told that shedreamed pleasant things.

Troubles are but fleeting things with such young minds;only the present affects them.

The night was wearing on.

I thought of Robbins—and hoped he was enjoying himselfafter his own fashion out on the streets.

Several times I heard voices without, and once I sat upas a couple of citizens stopped before the door, for I distinctlyheard one say in Spanish:

“This is the house—I saw him enter.”

Presently they went on.

No doubt it was only curiosity or hero worship—theywished to know where the new president lodged.

Something made me get up and glance out of the window—thetwo figures neared the lights by the cathedral,and when I discovered that one of them wore the remarkablehat of a padre I felt a little uneasiness.

That might be the rock on which my ship of state wouldfounder, for no man has as yet been able to successfullyantagonize the religious elements in one of these hide-boundrepublics.

Perhaps half an hour more passed—I could not say exactly,as I had no means of measuring time.

Then I heard quick footsteps that I knew must indicateRobbins’ coming; instinctively I felt there was somethingwrong, else he would not return in such a hurry.

I stepped over and opened the door just as he arrivedoutside, and as the light in the room fell on his ruggedfeatures I realized that my guess must have been prettynear the truth.

There was something out of joint.

“Well, what is it, Mr. Secretary?” I asked, grimly.

“Nothing much, only old Toreado has refused to staydead; he has reappeared, is haranguing the boys, denouncing[Pg 236]us; you are already a ‘has been,’ and I reckonthey’ll soon follow me here demanding tropical vengeance.We must levant, Morgan, my boy.”

CHAPTER XXXIX.

THE HAND OF THE WIZARD.

Another kaleidoscopic change had occurred in my fortunes.I think I had been president almost three hours,which was quite enough; some men have not enjoyed theluxury even that long.

And, singular to relate, my first feeling upon hearingthe news of the ex-secretary of war was something in theline of keen pleasure.

I was relieved of a load—so poor Sindbad the Sailormust have felt when he finally shook off the Old Man ofthe Sea from his shoulders.

Yes, and in that exceedingly brief space of time, whichthe hustling Robbins allowed me in order, as he thought,that I might swallow the keen regret and chagrin that adeposed president should by right experience—in thatbreathing spell, would you believe it, I had a very distinctand very attractive vision of a jaunty English steam yachtplowing the blue waters of the Mediterranean, with storiedAlgiers in sight, the uniformed captain being Robbinshimself, while the passengers consisted solely of two persons,myself and Hildegarde.

Which must have been conclusive evidence as to thelightness with which I held my receding presidentialglory.

Republics might come, and republics might go, and itwas very little I cared so long as they left me Hildegarde.

[Pg 237]

So constituted is man that for the sake of a woman heoften counts the world well lost.

Robbins considered that I had had enough time to recoverfrom his staggering blow.

So he began to speak again.

“Are you all right, governor?”

“Splendid,” which was really far from the truth becauselack of sleep told upon me.

“Good! Thought you weren’t the man to sit down andcry over spilled milk.”

“Bosh!” I said; “glad the old farce has come to an end.Rather be an American citizen any day than the uncrownedking of this hot region.”

“Well, then to business. We must get out.”

“Why is that necessary? I’ll gladly resign in favor ofToreado, bless his fat old heart! No reason we shouldn’tbe friends.”

“I tell you he won’t have it. Jealous of your popularity,I reckon, or else hand in glove with your charmingdad-in-law, and sees a chance to make a pile. Anyhow,he’s gathering his men to march here and throw us all inprison.”

“What! more dungeons, more tortillas, frijoles andwater! That settles it. Robbins, I’ll do whatever yousay. Have you a balloon handy?” I asked in a humorousvein.

“No, but I’ve made sure to have horses ready,” wasthe quick response.

I was staggered.

It was simply astounding the way in which this wonderfulman anticipated things. Here he had been secretaryof war less than three hours, yet in that period oftriumph, when the ordinary person would have been heedlesslycelebrating, my comrade took time by the forelock,and made ready for flight.

[Pg 238]

Really, those hot-headed people never knew what atreasure they let slip through their grasp when Robbinswas turned adrift; in less than a year I believe the countrywould have emerged from its swaddling clothes andmade to assume a position among second-class nations.

Their loss was my gain, however.

“Horses? Then it’s over the mountains to Jalapa?” Isaid, quickly.

“Exactly. Tell your wife and the little one.”

Thus suddenly had the thunderbolt fallen, but fortunatelyI had plenty of reserve nervous energy to meetthe new crisis.

When I went to the other room I found Hildegardesitting up; she had heard voices in the front chamber,and, knowing that this was hardly the appropriate hourfor a cabinet meeting, had begun to be curious, as well asto worry.

“What is it, Morgan?” she asked.

“Sam has been shorn of his locks—I am a back number.It seems old Toreado was not dead, after all, sothey rallied to him, and I’m no longer the exalted president.”

“Oh! I’m so glad,” was what she said, embracing me.

“Are you? That’s good. You are no happier over itthan I am, for now we can take that cruise to Egypt—ifwe ever get out of here safely.”

“Morgan, is there danger?” she said, standing up.

“It would be folly to deny it. Robbins says they aresoon coming, inflamed by the sly old padres and Toreado’sjealousy of me—coming to put me in that dungeon againand feed me on—— Bah! it makes me tired to even thinkof it; and consequently I’m afraid we must get out ofBolivar in a hurry.”

“Don’t worry about me—I’m ready to go anywherewith you, Morgan.”

[Pg 239]

Of course, I kissed her—who wouldn’t?

“You are a good rider, darling?”

“Yes; is it to be on horses, then?”

“So Robbins says, to Jalapa over the mountains. Thatwonderful man has everything ready. He’s a perfectmarvel to me. But time is valuable. Wake the girl, andwe will start.”

It was awfully sudden; she had gone to sleep the wifeof a president, to dream perchance of marble halls andgrand palaces; then to awaken to the fact that she wasplain Mrs. Kenneth, and must make a wild fight over amountainous country, to save her wretched husband froma daily diet of miserable fare, was quite enough to unnervethe best of them.

But Hildegarde, bless her! was a thoroughbred.

It was quickly done.

Carmencita proved game enough, and ready to acceptof anything rather than be parted from the only being onearth she loved.

“All ready,” I announced to Robbins, as we fled intothe other room.

He was looking a bit anxious as he stood by the doorlistening to the confused jumble of shouts over near thecathedral; at our coming I thought I saw him hustlesomething bright and steel-like into his pocket, and couldeasily guess he had feared there would speedily be usefor it unless we made haste.

“We’ve just got time. Sorry to have our castle tumbleddown so suddenly, madam, but it is always an honorto be the wife of even an ex-president. There they come,by the church. This way, down the calle. A miss is asgood as a mile, I reckon. There’ll be some mad hornetsabout here, presently.”

“Do you think they’ll try to chase us?” I asked, in alow voice, as we hurried away.

[Pg 240]

“Well, nothing surprises me nowadays, and in thisbeastly country. That old man—begging the lady’s pardonfor referring to her dad—is hardly the one to let agood thing slip out of his hands for lack of a few horses,and golden ouzas to hire trackers. But we’ll give ’emthe slip, see if we don’t?” was his reply.

“I’m afraid it is true—he is very determined. Why, itwas his threat to injure you, Morgan, that made me obeyhim,” said Hildegarde, clinging to my arm closely.

“Why, I don’t believe the old villain had the remotestidea where upon the face of the earth such an individualas myself could be found, or that he was in any positionto hurt me.”

“I think the same way now, but at the time he told sucha plausible story I was forced to believe he had it in hispower to injure you. Yes, I fear he will never give upthe pursuit while he has life.”

There was no time to say more, but secretly I expresseda fervent wish that something might speedily befall thevindictive old schemer, whom I positively believed to bea fraud, yet whom my wife had accepted as her worthlessparent.

The approaching party streamed down the calle; Icould see the shovel hats in the van, and smiled to thinkhow easily the affair had been won by them in the firstround.

Little I cared—the game was not worth the candle tome; my honors had been unsought, and were relinquishedwithout regret.

Luckily, they did not appear in time to discover thelittle group that hurried out of the other end of the narrowcalle—perhaps they could not dream that the presidentof three hours would think of such a thing as flight,and expected him to be sound asleep, as he might have[Pg 241]been, but for that remarkable secretary of war, whocould sniff battle in the very air.

We made several turnings.

“Hark!” exclaimed Robbins, with a laugh.

Surely, those were angry shouts; the mob had discoveredthe empty nest, and some of the inmates of neighboringhouses might give them points as to the directionwe had taken.

“It doesn’t matter—here are the horses,” said our magician,simply.

He led them out of a shed.

I had to rub my eyes, for I feared this was all a dream—fearedthat I was a boy again; reading the “ArabianNights,” and that when I awoke, gone would be the splendidsteeds, my gallant comrade in arms, the fair lady,and all.

But it was real—the horses curveted and whinnied theirdelight, and I wondered how Robbins had managed tosecure such splendid mounts, forgetting that as secretaryof war he had the power to requisition anything he desired,that would be for the public weal.

And only three hours in office—think what he mightnot have done in a month—a year!

Wretched Bolivar! But, then, some people never knowwhen they are well off.

Two of the horses had side saddles—I had no ideathere was such a thing in Bolivar, but he had ferretedthem out; nothing seemed to escape his scent when on thetrack.

Hildegarde had always been a fine horsewoman, andCarmencita would take to the exercise with the readinessever shown by confident youth.

We were all quickly mounted, and Robbins led the way;perhaps many an ex-president had quitted Bolivar in the[Pg 242]same fashion; but we were only too thankful to shake thedust of the tropical metropolis from our shoes.

CHAPTER XL.

WON AT LAST.

Of course, they pursued us—it was destined that ourescape from Bolivar should be marked by one moredramatic scene, as though to round out the whole tragicbusiness.

Daylight was just beginning to break when we clatteredpast the last scattering adobe huts, and struck outupon the winding road that led in the direction of Jalapa,climbing mountains, crossing wild valleys and presentingmany dangerous features to a company without a guide.

Once free from the town and its noises, we experienceda remarkable sense of relief; and could we have been assuredthat no pursuit would be inaugurated, we mighthave enjoyed the journey very much.

That sunrise as seen from the side of the mountain wasequal to any I ever witnessed even in Italy.

Robbins had even thought of food; he apologized becausehe had been unable to secure a pack horse on suchshort notice and load him down with all the paraphernaliaof a camping outfit, but we united in declaring what hehad done was really astonishing; given time, I think hewould have bagged all the dainties in Bolivar.

We ate as we rode, for our enemies were too near athand and our horses too fresh to think of making soearly a halt.

The invigorating air gave us high spirits, and we couldeven converse about the wreck and the probable fate of[Pg 243]Gustavus and Diana, as well as the men, without shuddering.

Still, I feared it was a theme that would cast more orless of a shadow athwart our happiness in the future, forit was a bitter thing to think of that bright society woman,one of the most charming of her sex, thus taken away sosuddenly and cruelly.

Long before noon, Robbins secretly informed me wewere being pursued.

Somehow, I was not much surprised—nothing appearedto strike me as singular nowadays. I understood thatfate meant to make one more grand bluff at snatchinghappiness from my arms, and, if defeated this time, wouldbe apt to give up in disgust.

All I did was to grimly set my teeth together and lookdown the wild mountain in the quarter whence we hadcome.

Robbins presently pointed out our pursuers.

They were a grand squad, and unless my eyesight deceivedme old Gen. Toreado was at the head.

Strange, how vindictive the old chap was; instead ofhunting Salvador, who had been president before thecoup, and must be chasing hot-footed for the border atthis hour, here he was, speeding after me, the man wholaid down the reins of government only too willingly whennews came that Toreado the Magnificent had not beenkilled after all, only stunned.

“How many?” asked Robbins.

“Not far from a dozen, all told.”

“Pretty big odds, if they catch us. We’ve got a goodstart—let ’em come,” said he.

We joined the others, who were ahead.

The trail had reached its highest point, and now a descentlay before us.

Of course, we could make quicker time, but it was often[Pg 244]dangerous to hasten, for the narrow mule path led alongthe face of precipices where, hundreds of feet below,large trees looked for all the world like bushes, and abrawling stream seemed no larger than a silver ribbon.

Here we moved slowly and sedately; I confess my heartwas almost in my throat when I reflected that a singlestumble would precipitate horse and rider over the brinkinto eternity.

Robbins was berating himself for a fool; he wanted toknow what was the use in being secretary of war unlessone could command all the military supplies in the republic.

At first, I could not understand what ailed the fellow,until he pointed out a place where, as he said, a littledynamite cartridge would bring the narrow path intochaotic ruin after we had passed in safety, and thus effectuallycut off pursuit.

Yes, it was a great pity he had not thought to requisitionthe whole outfit of the army.

Still, we managed to get on.

The trouble was, those fellows in our rear, from somecause or other, got on better; perhaps it came from theirnot having any women folks along, or because they weremore accustomed to such mountain travel, for a chaseafter a fleeing ex-president is an event of frequent occurrence.

At any rate, our lead was slowly, but surely, being cutdown, and it became an open question whether we wouldgain a safe refuge over the border at Jalapa or be forcedto turn at bay.

I sincerely hoped the former might come to pass,though grimly determined that, should it be war, wewould give a good account of ourselves as Americancitizens.

Hildegarde bore the rough ride admirably—not a[Pg 245]whimper did I hear, though it must have been a cruel experience,especially toward the end, when our pace wasfast and furious.

Something of this was due to her natural grit; but thefact that she had always been a lover of horseback exercisecounted for considerable. As for the girl, nothingcould tire her; her big black eyes glowed with excitement,and she sat her reeking horse like a little centaur.

None of us was positive how much farther we had togo—it might be leagues to the border. So much for nothaving a guide; but, truth to tell, Robbins had not beenable to discover a single chap in all Bolivar whom hethought he could trust.

We only knew that the fellows in our rear were gettingtoo close for comfort, and that the chances for a ructionseemed good.

I saw there were but nine now—the rest had droppedout, and with them, the white-headed old reprobate whoclaimed the ties of kindred with my Hildegarde.

I am not naturally a bloodthirsty man, but I ferventlyhoped on this occasion that his horse had carried him overwhere the gulch was deepest, so that he would nevertrouble us more.

Subsequent events have led me to believe that such adoleful tragedy actually occurred, for the old sinner disappearedfrom the face of the earth, and never againsought to acquire a claim to any of my wealth. I amsure that this could only have been brought about by hissudden demise; for, as Hildegarde declared, he was aman who would never give up a cherished object whilebreath remained.

As I rode beside Robbins I ventured to ask my ex-secretaryof war how best we could defeat our pursuers,who seemed bent on bringing matters to a crisis.

[Pg 246]

Robbins was quick to answer; he had been lookingahead, it seemed.

“Look below—what d’ye see, governor?”

“Well, there’s a river of some sort in the valley—yes,and a bridge over it.”

“We’ll get there, all right.”

“That’s true, but beyond is a level stretch where theycan overhaul us.”

“Wait. Once we cross, the ladies will ride on.”

“Ah! then we stop.”

“Thermopylæ again, Morgan. We’ll hold the bridge,as Leonidas and his Spartans held the pass. I reckonthis tumultuous nation will have the novelty of four presidentsin twenty-four hours.”

“Four?”

“I’ve made up my mind to shoot Toreado the firstthing. He deserves it, the old fool! Some men neverknow which side of their bread is buttered. Well, herewe are.”

The bridge was before us, and as we wearily gallopedover, I hastily called to Hildegarde, telling her to keepstraight on for a mile or so, and that we would surelycome up.

She gave me one look over her shoulder, so full of loveand misery that it brought a lump into my throat; but sheknew what obedience meant, and rode straight on.

“Now,” cried Robbins, suddenly, as our horses clearedthe planking.

So we drew the beasts upon their very haunches andsprang to the ground, and, sheltered behind their wearycarcasses, faced about.

It was indeed time, for the squad of rough riders hadjust started to cross—indeed, the crash of horses’ hoofsupon the bridge marked our turning at bay.

We opened fire instantly—the old battle spirit surged[Pg 247]over me, and human life was held in cheap account.Why should I care when these men hunted us like wildbeasts, determined to slay us, or, worse still, imprison usin their filthy dungeons on a diet of atrocities?

The rattle of firearms was merry enough, and as bothof us were extraordinarily good shots, we created quitea little havoc among them.

Horses leaped and burst over the rail, carrying theirriders in some cases with them—men shrieked and sworeand plunged about, as though crazed with fear; taken inall, it was a dreadful affair, which I sincerely trust I maynever see the like of again.

Robbins had potted the old general the first thing, justas he promised—at least, he shot his horse, and that beastpromptly tumbled over the rail, so that the last I saw ofToreado he was floating down stream, screaming for help.

It seems he did not drown, but lived to rule the littlerepublic just seven months, when he was shot from ambush,and a new president took up the reins where hedropped them; but, of course, he found an empty treasury—theyalways do.

When we saw that the pursuit had been effectuallybrought to a sudden stop, we once more flung ourselvesin the saddle, gave a cowboy whoop, and were off downthe road.

So far as I can remember, I do not think we actuallykilled any of the Toreado possé, granting that those inthe river got out safe and sound, but their ardor was effectuallycooled, and they hunted ex-presidents no morethat day.

A mile on we overtook our companions, and Hildegarde’seyes sparkled with tears of joy when I drewalongside.

Jalapa proved to be near at hand; indeed, although we[Pg 248]had not suspected it at the time, the river was really theborder of the territory.

At Jalapa we lost all our fears.

Here even ex-presidents could breathe in peace.

We engaged passage on the first steamer soon to startfor New York.

I would not feel entirely easy until I had shaken therepublican dust of these Central American countries frommy feet—they were much too hot for me.

At Jalapa we had some good news.

A party of shipwrecked persons had been brought in bythe coast guard, hungry and nearly exhausted—amongothers a woman.

It was Diana—the sea had not claimed her, as I feared;and a year later at a London hotel I met Gustavus andhis wife, so that, being together some days, we were ableto compare notes of that fearful experience; and the ladiesactually became friends.

Poor Cummings was drowned, also the cook and twoof the men. I made it a point of honor to hunt up theirrelatives and liberally settle all that was due the poor fellowsthree times over.

We took the Nile trip on our own boat, and it was aglorious time; yet how often would my mind go back toold Bolivar and those exciting scenes that marked thefinding of that lost, though loved, one—my Hildegarde.

THE END.

THE MOST COMPLETE LIST OF BERTHAM. CLAY STORIES IS REPRESENTED BY

The Bertha Clay Library

This line is devoted to the works of the popular Bertha M. Clay andother writers of the same school. Many of the titles listed hereinare copyrighted and cannot be found in any other editions. Thisauthor has successfully demonstrated her ability to write high-classlove stories, which charm the reader, from the moment the book is openeduntil the last line is read. Her name is known throughout the entireEnglish-speaking world. Her style is peculiarly her own. She has thehappy faculty of making the reader feel that he is interested, personally,in the wellfare and ultimate success of the principal characters.

GENEVIEVE ULMAN

202. The Siren’s Triumph

MRS. EDWARD KENNARD

201. Love’s Temptation

BERTHA M. CLAY

200. Fair as a Lily
199. Strong in Her Love
198. A Heart Forlorn
197. A Soul Ensnared
196. Her Beautiful Foe
195. For Her Heart’s Sake
194. Sweeter Than Life
193. An Ocean of Love
192. A Coquette’s Victim
191. Her Honored Name
190. The Old Love or New?
189. Paying the Penalty
188. What It Cost Her
187. A Poisoned Heart
186. True Love’s Reward
185. Between Love and Ambition
184. A Queen Triumphant
183. A Heart’s Worship
182. A Loveless Engagement
181. The Chains of Jealousy
180. A Misguided Love
179. A Supreme Sacrifice
178. When Love and Hate Conflict
177. The Price of Love
176. A Wife’s Devotion
175. The Girl of His Heart
174. A Pilgrim of Love
173. The Queen of His Soul
172. A Purchased Love
171. An Untold Passion
170. A Deceptive Lover
169. A Captive Heart
168. A Fateful Passion
167. From Hate to Love
166. Her Boundless Faith
165. On With the New Love
164. Lost for Love
163. Glady’s Wedding Day
162. An Evil Heart
161. His Great Temptation
160. The Love of Lady Aurelia
159. The Lost Lady of Haddon
158. The Sunshine of His Life
157. Love’s Redemption
156. A Maid’s Misery
155. Every Inch a Queen
154. A Stolen Heart
153. A Tragedy of Love and Hate
152. A Bitter Courtship
151. Lady Ona’s Sin
150. The Tragedy of Lime Hall
149. A Wife’s Peril
148. Lady Ethel’s Whim
147. The Broken Trust
146. Lady Marchmont’s Widowhood
145. A Sinful Secret
144. The Hand Without a Wedding Ring
143. How Will It End
142. One Woman’s Sin
141. The Burden of a Secret
140. A Woman’s Witchery
139. Love in a Mask
138. The Price of a Bride
137. A Heart of Gold
136. A Loving Maid
135. For Love of Her
134. The Sins of the Father
133. A Dream of Love
132. A Woman’s Trust
131. A Bride from the Sea, and Other Stories
130. The Rival Heiresses
129. Lady Gwendoline’s Dream
128. Society’s Verdict
127. A Great Mistake
126. The Gambler’s Wife
125. For A Dream’s Sake
124. The Hidden Sin
123. Lady Muriel’s Secret
122. Dumaresq’s Temptation
121. The White Witch
120. The Story of An Error
119. Blossom and Fruit
118. The Paths of Love
117. A Struggle for the Right
116. The Queen of the County
115. Queen Amongst Women, And An Unnatural Bondage
114. A Woman’s Vengeance
113. Lord Elesmere’s Wife
112. His Wedded Wife
111. Irene’s Vow
110. Thrown on the World
109. A Bitter Reckoning
108. Her First Love
107. From Out the Gloom
106. Wedded Hands
105. A Hidden Terror
104. ’Twixt Smile and Tear
103. Two Kisses, and The Fatal Lilies
102. Dream Faces
101. A Broken Wedding Ring
100. In Shallow Waters
99. For Life and Love, and More Bitter Than Death
98. James Gordon’s Wife
97. Repented at Leisure
96. The Actor’s Ward
95. A Woman’s Temptation
94. Margery Daw
93. Signa’s Sweetheart
92. At Any Cost, and A Modern Cinderella
91. Under a Shadow
90. In Cupid’s Net, and So Near and Yet So Far
89. A Coquette’s Conquest
88. If Love be Love
87. Beyond Pardon
86. Guelda
85. A Woman’s Error
84. Lady Latimer’s Escape, and Other Stories
83. A Fatal Dower
82. A Dead Heart, and Love For a Day
81. Between Two Loves
80. The Earl’s Atonement
79. An Ideal Love
78. Another Man’s Wife
77. A Fair Mystery
76. Guiding Star
75. A Bitter Bondage
74. Thorns and Orange Blossoms
73. Her Martyrdom
72. Between Two Hearts
71. Marjorie Deane
70. A Heart’s Bitterness
69. Fair But Faithless
68. ’Twixt Love and Hate
67. In Love’s Crucible
66. Gladys Greye
65. His Perfect Trust
64. Wedded and Parted, and Fair but False
63. Another Woman’s Husband
62. Sweet Cymbeline
61. The Earl’s Error, and Letty Leigh
60. A Heart’s Idol
59. One False Step
58. Griselda
57. Violet Lisle
56. The Squire’s Darling, and Walter’s Wooing
55. Golden Gates
54. The Gipsy’s Daughter
53. A Fiery Ordeal
52. Claribel’s Love Story; or, Love’s Hidden Depths
51. For a Woman’s Honor
50. A True Magdalen; or, One False Step
49. Addie’s Husband, and Arnold’s Promise
48. Her Second Love
47. The Duke’s Secret
46. Beauty’s Marriage
45. Lover and Husband
44. The Belle of Lynn; or, The Miller’s Daughter
43. Madolin’s Lover
42. Hilary’s Folly; or, Her Marriage Vow
41. A Mad Love
40. A Nameless Sin
39. Marjorie’s Fate
38. Love’s Warfare
37. Weaker Than a Woman
36. On Her Wedding Morn, and Her Only Sin
35. A Woman’s War
34. The Romance of a Young Girl; or, The Heiress of Hilldrop
33. Set in Diamonds
32. Lord Lynne’s Choice
31. Redeemed by Love; or, Love’s Conflict; or, Love Works Wonders
30. The Romance of a Black Veil
29. A Woman’s Love Story
28. A Rose in Thorns
27. A Shadow of a Sin
26. A Struggle for a Ring
25. A Thorn in Her Heart
24. Prince Charlie’s Daughter
23. The World Between Them
22. The Sin of a Lifetime
21. Wife in Name Only
20. A Willful Maid
19. Two Fair Women; or, Which Loved Him Best?
18. A Passion Flower
17. Lady Castlemaine’s Divorce; or, Put Asunder
16. His Wife’s Judgment
15. Lady Damer’s Secret
14. A Haunted Life
13. Evelyn’s Folly
12. At War With Herself
11. For Another’s Sin; or, A Struggle for Love
10. One Against Many
9. Her Mother’s Sin; or, A Bright Wedding Day
8. Hilda’s Lover; or, The False Vow; or Lady Hutton’s Ward
7. A Dark Marriage Morn
6. Diana’s Discipline; or, Sunshine and Roses
5. The Mystery of Colde Fell; or, Not Proven
4. Lord Lisle’s Daughter
3. A Golden Heart
2. Dora Thorne
1. A Bitter Atonement

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August 10, 1903

NO. 329

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Transcriber’s Notes:

A table of contents has been added by the transcriber and placed in thepublic domain.

Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected.

Some inconsistent hyphenation has been retained from the original.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 74522 ***

My Hildegarde | Project Gutenberg (2024)

MY HILDEGARDE

MY HILDEGARDE.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER IV.

CHAPTER V.

CHAPTER VI.

CHAPTER VII.

CHAPTER VIII.

CHAPTER IX.

CHAPTER X.

CHAPTER XI.

CHAPTER XII.

CHAPTER XIII.

CHAPTER XIV.

CHAPTER XV.

CHAPTER XVI.

CHAPTER XVII.

CHAPTER XVIII.

CHAPTER XIX.

CHAPTER XX.

CHAPTER XXI.

CHAPTER XXII.

CHAPTER XXIII.

CHAPTER XXIV.

CHAPTER XXV.

CHAPTER XXVI.

CHAPTER XXVII.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

CHAPTER XXIX.

CHAPTER XXX.

CHAPTER XXXI.

CHAPTER XXXII.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

CHAPTER XXXV.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

CHAPTER XL.

The Bertha Clay Library

Transcriber’s Notes: