At the Point of the Sword - Part 2
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Part 2

"Farewell, my boy. G.o.d keep you!" and as we moved away I saw her white handkerchief fluttering through the gloom.

At the gate the Indian waited for us, and he followed a few paces in the rear.

I thought this strange, and asked Jose about it.

"It may be well to have a friend to guard our backs," he replied.

So in the gathering darkness I stole away from my home, with my heart sore for my father's death and my mother's suffering. And it was the eve of my birthday--the eve of the day to which I had looked forward with such delight!

Being so young, I did not really understand the peril that surrounded me; but my faith in Jose was strong, and I felt confident that in taking me away he was acting for the best.

Our path through the park led us near the lake, and I glanced sorrowfully at its calm waters and fern-fringed border. I would have liked to linger a moment at its margin, dwelling on past joys; but Jose hurried me on, remarking there was no time to waste.

Only, as the great gates swung open, he let me stop, so that I might bid a silent adieu to the beautiful home where my happy days of childhood had been pa.s.sed.

"Keep a brave heart," said he kindly; "we shall be back some day. And now for a word of advice. Ride carefully and keep your eyes open. I don't want to frighten you, but the sooner we're clear of Lima the better I shall be pleased."

With that he put spurs to his horse, and with the clanging of the gate in our ears we rode off on the road to Callao, while the gigantic Indian followed about twenty paces behind.

CHAPTER II.

AN EXCITING VOYAGE.

It may be that Jose's fears on my account had exaggerated the danger, as we reached Callao without interruption, and dismounted outside Mr.

Warren's villa. Here the Indian took leave of us, but before going he unfastened a silver key from the chain round his neck, and pressed it into my hand.

"It may happen," said he, "that at some time or other you will need help. That key and the name of Raymon Sorillo will obtain it for you from every patriot in the mountains of Peru. For the present, farewell. When you return from Chili we shall meet again."

Without waiting for my thanks he bade adieu to Jose and then, spurring his horse into a gallop, he disappeared.

From the man who opened the gate in answer to our summons we learned that my father's friend was at home, and leaving our horses, we went immediately into the house. This English merchant had often been our guest, and it was soon abundantly evident that we had done right in trusting him. He was a short, round-faced man, with a florid complexion, twinkling eyes, and sandy hair. He was very restless and irritable, and had a queer habit of twiddling his thumbs backward and forward whenever his hands were unoccupied.

"How do, Joseph?" exclaimed he, jumping up. "Come to take that berth I offered you? No? Well, well, what a fool a man can be if he tries!

Why, bless me, this is young Jack Crawford! Eight miles from home, and at this time of night too! Anything the matter? Get it out, Joseph, and don't waste time."

While Joseph was explaining the circ.u.mstances, the choleric little man danced about the room, exclaiming at intervals, "Ted Crawford gone?

Dear, dear! Not a better fellow in South America! I'd shoot 'em all or string 'em up! The country's going to the dogs, and a man isn't safe in his own house! Eh? What? Hurt the boy? What's the boy to do with it? They can't punish him if his father had been fifty times a rebel!"

"That is so, sir," remarked Jose; "but he might meet with an unfortunate accident, or vanish mysteriously, or something of that kind. What's the use of making believe? Those who have got rid of the father won't spare the son, should he happen to stand in their way."

"Which he will," interrupted Mr. Warren. "My poor friend was hand in glove with the Indians, and they'll rally round the boy."

"There are other things, too, which need not be gone into now, however," said Jose; "but the long and the short of it is that Jack must be got out of the way at present."

"And his mother?"

"She has sent him to you."

"But he can't be hidden here. The rascally Dons will have him in the casemates before one can say 'Jack Robinson!'"

"We don't mean to stay here, sir," replied Jose. "Our idea is to go to Valparaiso, and we thought if you had a ship--"

"The very thing, Joseph," and the thumbs went backward and forward taster than ever. "Maxwell has a schooner leaving in the morning. You can go on board to-night if you choose, but you had better have some supper first."

As it happened, both Jose and I had been some time without food, so we were glad to have something to eat; after which Mr. Warren took us to the quay, where the schooner _Aguila_ lay moored.

"There she is," he remarked; "let us go aboard. Most likely we shall find Maxwell there.--Hi, you fellows, show a light!--Lazy dogs, aren't they? Mind your foot there, and don't tumble into the harbour; you won't get to Valparaiso that way.--That you, Maxwell? I have brought a couple of friends who are so charmed with your boat that they want to make a trip in her. Where do you keep your cabin? Let's go down there; we can't talk on deck."

Mr. Maxwell was another English merchant at Callao, and as soon as he heard what had happened, he readily agreed to give us a pa.s.sage in the _Aguila_. We must be prepared to rough it, he said. The schooner had no accommodation for pa.s.sengers, but she was a sound boat, and the Chilian skipper was a trustworthy sailor. Then he sent to his warehouse for some extra provisions, and afterwards introduced us to the captain, whose name was Montevo.

As the schooner was to sail at daylight, our friends remained with us, and, sitting in the dingy cabin, chatted with Jose about the state of the country. By listening to the talk I learned that General San Martin was a great soldier from Buenos Ayres, who, having overthrown the Spanish power in Chili, was collecting an army with which to drive the Spanish rulers from Peru. At the same time another leader, General Bolivar, was freeing the northern provinces, and it was thought that the two generals, joining their forces, would sweep Peru from north to south.

"And a good thing, too!" exclaimed Mr. Warren. "Perhaps we shall have a little peace then!"

"Pooh! stuff!" said his friend; "things will be worse than ever! These people can't rule themselves. They're like disorderly schoolboys, and need a firm master who knows how to use the birch. I am all for a stern master."

"So am I," agreed Jose, "if he's just, which the Spaniards aren't."

"That is so," cried Mr. Warren. "What would our property be worth if it wasn't for the British frigate lying in the harbour? Tell me that, Maxwell; tell me that, sir! They'd confiscate the whole lot, and clap us into prison for being paupers," and the thumbs revolved like the sails of a windmill.

So the talk continued until daybreak, when the skipper, knocking at the cabin door, informed us that the schooner was ready to sail; so we all went on deck, where the kindly merchants bade us good-bye, and hoped we should have a pleasant voyage.

"Keep the youngster out of mischief, Joseph. There's plenty of food for powder without using him," were Mr. Warren's last words as he stepped ash.o.r.e, followed by his friend.

It was the first time I had been on board a ship, and I knew absolutely nothing of what the sailors were doing; but presently the boat began to move, the merchants, waving their hands, shouted a last good-bye, and very quickly we pa.s.sed to the outer harbour.

I have been in many dangers and suffered numerous hardships since then, some of which are narrated in this book, but I have never felt quite so wretched and miserable as on the morning of our departure from Callao.

Wishing to divert my thoughts, Jose pointed out the beauties of the bay and the sh.o.r.e; but my gaze went far inland--to the lonely home where my mother sat with her grief, to the mighty cordillera where my father lay dead. Time softened the pain, and brought back the pleasures of life, but just then it seemed as if I should never laugh or sing or be merry again.

The first day or two on the _Aguila_ did not tend to make me more cheerful, though the skipper did what he could to make us comfortable.

We slept in a dirty little box, which was really the mate's cabin, and had our meals, or at least Jose had, at the captain's table.

By degrees, however, my sickness wore off, and on the fourth morning I began to take an interest in things. By this time the land was out of sight; for miles and miles the blue water lay around us--an interminable stretch. There was not a sail to be seen, and the utter loneliness impressed me with a feeling of awe.

Jose was as ignorant of seafaring matters as myself; but the captain said we were making a good voyage, and with that we were content. A stiff breeze blew the schooner along merrily, the blue sky was flecked only by the softest white clouds, and the swish, swish of the water against the vessel's sides sounded pleasantly in our ears. I began to think there were worse ways of earning a living than by going to sea.

That same evening I turned in early, leaving Jose on deck, but I was still awake when he entered the cabin.

"There's an ugly storm brewing," said he, kicking off his boots, "and I don't think the skipper much likes the prospect of it. He has all hands at work taking in the sails and getting things ready generally.

Rather a lucky thing for us that the _Aguila_ is a stout boat. Listen!

That's the first blast!" as the schooner staggered and reeled.

Above us we heard the captain shouting orders, the answering cries of the sailors, and the groaning of the timbers, as if the ship were a living being stretched on a rack. Slipping out of my bunk and dressing quickly, I held on to a bar to steady myself.

"Let us go on deck before they batten down the hatches," said Jose, putting on his boots again. "I've no mind to stay in this hole. If the ship sinks, we shall be drowned like rats in a trap."