CHAPTER 33

"Padre! Padre! are you alive?"

Rosendo's hoa.r.s.e whisper drifted across the silence like a wraith. He crept out and along the floor, scarce daring to look up. Through the darkness his straining eyes caught the outlines of the two figures standing like statues before the altar.

"_Loado sea Dios!_" he cried, and his voice broke with a sob. "But, Padre, they have stopped--what has happened?"

"I know not, _amigo_. Be patient. We are in the hands of G.o.d--"

"Padre--listen!" Carmen darted from the altar and ran to the door.

"Padre!" she called back. "Come! Some one is speaking English!"

Jose and Rosendo hurried to the door. All was quiet without, but for an animated conversation between Don Mario and some strangers who had evidently just arrived upon the scene. One of the latter was speaking with the Alcalde in excellent Spanish. Another, evidently unacquainted with the language, made frequent interruptions in the English tongue.

Jose's heart beat wildly.

"Say, Reed," said the voice in English, "tell the parchment-faced old buzzard that we appreciate the little comedy he has staged for us.

Tell him it is bully-bueno, but he must not overdo it. We are plum done up, and want a few days of rest."

"What says the senor, _amigo_?" asked Don Mario, with his utmost suavity and unction of manner.

"He says," returned the other in Spanish, "that he is delighted with the firmness which you display in the administration of your office, and that he trusts the bandits within the church may be speedily executed."

"Bandits!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Don Mario. "Just so, _amigo_! They are those who defy the Government as represented by myself!" He straightened up and threw out his chest with such an exhibition of importance that the strangers with difficulty kept their faces straight.

Carmen and Jose looked at each other in amazement during this colloquy.

"Padre!" exclaimed the girl. "Do all who speak English tell such lies?"

"Ah!" murmured the one addressed as Reed, directing himself to the Alcalde, "how dared they! But, senor, my friend and I have come to your beautiful city on business of the utmost importance, in which you doubtless will share largely. I would suggest," looking with amus.e.m.e.nt at the array of armed men about him, "that your prisoners are in no immediate likelihood of escaping, and you might leave them under close guard while we discuss our business. A--a--we hear reports, senor, that there is likely to be trouble in the country, and we are desirous of getting out as soon as possible."

"_Cierto! Cierto, senores!_" exclaimed Don Mario, bowing low. "It shall be as you say." Turning to the gaping people, he selected several to do guard duty, dismissed the others, and then bade the strangers follow him to his house, which, he declared vehemently, was theirs as long as they might honor him with their distinguished presence.

The sudden turn of events left the little group within the church in a maze of bewilderment. They drew together in the center of the room and talked in low whispers until the sun dropped behind the hills and night drifted through the quiet streets. Late that evening came a tapping at the rear door of the church, and a voice called softly to the priest. Jose roused out of his gloomy revery and hastened to answer it.

"It is Fernando, Padre. I am on guard; but no one must know that I talk with you. But--Padre, if you open the door and escape, I will not see you. I am sorry, Padre, but it could not be helped. Don Mario has us all frightened, for the Bishop--"

"True, _amigo_," returned Jose; "but the strangers who arrived this afternoon--who are they, and whence?"

"Two _Americanos_, Padre, and miners."

Jose studied a moment. "Fernando--you would aid me? _Bien_, get word to the stranger who speaks both English and Spanish. Bring him here, secretly, and stand guard yourself while I talk with him."

"Gladly, Padre," returned the penitent fellow, as he hastened quietly away.

An hour later Jose was again roused by Fernando tapping on the door.

"Open, Padre. Fear not; only the _Americano_ will enter. Don Mario does not know."

Jose lifted the prop and swung the door open. Rosendo stood with uplifted _machete_. A man entered from the blackness without. Jose quickly closed the door, and then addressed him in English.

"Great Scott!" exclaimed the stranger in a mellow voice. "I had no idea I should find any one in this G.o.d-forsaken town who could speak real United States!"

Jose drew him into the _sacristia_. Neither man could see the other in the dense blackness.

"Tell me, friend," began Jose, "who you are, and where you come from."

"Reed--Charles Reed--New York--mining engineer--down here to examine the so-called mines of the Molino Company, now gasping its last while awaiting our report. Arrived this afternoon from Badillo with my partner, fellow named Harris. But--great heavens, man! you certainly were in a stew when we appeared! And why don't you escape now?"

"Escape, friend? Where? Even if we pa.s.sed the guard, where would we go? There are two women, a girl, and a babe with us. We have little food and no money. Should we gain the Boque or Guamoco trail, we would be pursued and shot down. There is a chance here--none in flight!

"But now, Mr. Reed," continued Jose earnestly, "will you get word from me to the Bishop in Cartagena that our church has been attacked--that its priest is besieged by the Alcalde, and his life in jeopardy?"

"a.s.suredly--but how?"

"You have money?" said Jose, speaking rapidly. "Good. Your _bogas_ have not returned to Badillo?"

"No, they are staying here for the big show. Execution of the traitors, you know."

"Then, friend, send them at dawn to Bodega Central. Let them take a message to be sent by the telegraph from that place. Tell the Bishop--"

"Sure!" interrupted the other. "Leave it to me. I'll fix up a message that will bring him by return boat! I've been talking with the Honorable Alcalde and I've got his exact number. Say, he certainly is the biggest d.a.m.n--beg pardon; I mean, the biggest numbskull I have ever run across--and that's saying considerable for a mining man!"

"Go, friend!" said Jose, making no other reply to the man's words. "Go quickly--and use what influence you have with the Alcalde to save us.

We have women here--and a young girl!" He found the American's hand and led him out into the night.

Wenceslas Ortiz stood before the Departmental Governor. His face was deeply serious, and his demeanor expressed the utmost gravity. In his hand he held a despatch. The Governor sat at his desk, nervously fumbling a pen.

"_Bien, Senor_," said Wenceslas quietly, "do you act--or shall I take it to His Excellency, the President?"

The Governor moved uneasily in his chair. "_Caramba!_" he blurted out.

"The report is too meager! And yet, I cannot see but that the Alcalde acted wholly within his rights!"

"Your Excellency, he seizes government arms--he attacks the church--he attempts to destroy the life of its priest. Nominally acting for the Government; at heart, anticlerical. Is it not evident? Will the Government clear itself now of the suspicion which this has aroused?"

"But the priest--did you not say only last week that he himself had published a book violently anticlerical in tone?"

"Senor, we will not discuss the matter further," said Wenceslas, moving toward the door. "Your final decision--you will send troops to Simiti, or no?"

"Certainly not! The evidence warrants no interference from me!"

Wenceslas courteously bowed himself out. Once beyond the door, he breathed a great sigh of relief. "_Santa Virgen!_" he muttered, "but I took a chance! Had he yielded and sent troops, all would have been spoiled. Now for Bogota!"

He entered his carriage and was driven hurriedly to his _sanctum_.

There he despatched a long message to the President of the Republic.

At noon he had a reply. He mused over it for the s.p.a.ce of an hour.