"Are you quite sure you can do this, senora? It will be a hazardous enterprise, remember."

"Quite sure."

"And you are prepared to incur the risk?"

"I will run any risk rather than stay where I am."

"Very well, I will see what can be done. Meet me here to-morrow at this hour. And now, we had better separate; if we are seen together it will be bad for both of us. _Hasta manana_."

And then she went her way and I went mine.

I had said truly "a hazardous enterprise." Hazardous and difficult in any circ.u.mstances, the hazard and the difficulty would be greatly increased by the presence of a woman; and the fact of a cacique's wife being one of the companions of my flight would add to the inveteracy of the pursuit. I greatly doubted, moreover, whether Senora de la Vega knew the country as well as she a.s.serted. She was so sick of her wretched condition that she would say or do anything to get away from it--and no wonder. But was I justified in letting her run the risk? The punishment of a woman who deserted her husband was death by burning; were Senora de la Vega caught, this punishment would be undoubtedly inflicted; were it even suspected that she had met me or any other man, secretly, Chimu would almost certainly kill her. Pachatupec husbands had the power of life and death over their wives, and they were as jealous and as cruel as Moors. Yet death was better than the life she was compelled to lead, and as she was fully cognizant of the risk it seemed my duty to do all that I could to facilitate her escape.

Then another thought occurred to me. Could this be a trap, a "put up job,"

as the phrase goes. Though the _caciques_ had not dared to make any open protest against Mamcuna's matrimonial project, I knew that they were bitterly opposed to it, and nothing, I felt sure, would please them better than to kindle the queen's jealousy by making it appear that I was engaged in an intrigue with one of Chimu's wives.

Yet no, I could not believe it. No Christian woman would play so base a part. Senora de la Vega could have no interest in betraying me. She hated her savage husband too heartily to be the voluntary instrument of my destruction, and she was so utterly wretched that I pitied her from my soul.

A creole of pure Spanish blood and n.o.ble family, bereft of her husband, forced to become the slave of a brutal Indian, and the constant a.s.sociate of hardly less brutal women, painfully conscious of her degradation, hopeless of any amendment of her lot, poor Senora de la Vega's fate would have touched the hardest heart. And she had little children at home! My suspicions vanished even more quickly than they had been conceived, and before I reached my quarters I had decided that, come what might, the attempt should be made.

The next question was how and when. Clearly, the sooner the better; but whether we had better set off at sunrise or sunset was open to doubt. By leaving at sunset we should be less easily followed; on the other hand, we should have greater difficulty in finding our way and be sooner missed. It was generally about sunset that Mamcuna sent for me, and I knew that at this time it would be well-nigh impossible for Senora de la Vega to leave Chimu's house without being observed and questioned, perhaps followed. So when we met as agreed, I told her that I had decided to make the attempt on the next morning, and asked her to be in a grove of plantains, hard by, an hour before dawn. I besought her, whatever she did, to be punctual; our lives depended on our stealing away before people were stirring.

Meanwhile Gahra and I had laid our plans. He was to give out the night before that we were setting off early next morning on a hunting expedition. This would enable us, without exciting suspicion, to take a supply of provisions, arms, and a led horse (for carrying any game we might kill) and, as I hoped, give us a long start. For even when Senora de la Vega was missed n.o.body would suspect that she had gone with us.

In the event--as we hoped, the improbable event--of our being overtaken or intercepted, Gahra and I were resolved not to be taken alive; but we had, unfortunately, no firearms; they were all lost in the snow-storm. Our only weapons were bows and arrows and machetes. I carried the former merely as a make-believe, to keep up my character as a hunter; for the same reason we took with us a brace of dogs. If it came to fighting I should have to put my trust in my _machete_, a long broad-bladed sword like a knife, formidable as a lethal weapon, yet chiefly used for clearing away brambles and cutting down trees.

All went well at the beginning. We were up betimes and off with our horses before daylight. The braves on duty asked no questions, there was no reason why they should, and we pa.s.sed through the village without meeting a soul.

So far, good. The omens seemed favorable, and my hopes ran high. We should get off without anybody knowing which way we had taken, and several hours before Senora de la Vega was likely to be missed.

But when we reached the rendezvous she was not there. I whistled and called softly; n.o.body answered.

"She will be here presently, we must wait," I said to Gahra.

It was terribly annoying. Every minute was precious. The Pachatupecs are early risers, and if Senora de la Vega did not join us before daylight we might be seen and the opportunity lost. The sun rose; still she did not come, and I had just made up my mind to put off our departure until the next morning, and try to communicate with Senora de la Vega in the meantime, when Gahra pointed to a pathway in the wood, where his sharp eyes had detected the fluttering of a robe.

At last she was coming. But too late. To start at that time would be madness, and I was about to tell her so, send her back, and ask her to meet me on the next morning, when she ran forward with terrified face and uplifted hands.

"Save me! Save me!" she cried, "I could not get away sooner. I have been watched. They are following me, even now."

This was a frightful misfortune, and I feared that the senora had acted very imprudently. But it was no time either for reproaches or regrets, and the words were scarcely out of her mouth when I lifted her into the saddle; as I did so, I caught sight of two hors.e.m.e.n and several foot-people, coming down the pathway.

"Go!" I said to Gahra, "I shall stay here."

"But, senor--"

"Go, I say; as you love me, go at once. This lady is in your charge. Take good care of her. I can keep these fellows at bay until you are out of sight and, if possible, I will follow. At once, please, at once!"

They went, Gahra's face expressing the keenest anguish, the senora half dead with fear. As they rode away I turned into the pathway and prepared for the encounter. The foot-people might do as they liked, they could not overtake the fugitives, but I was resolved that the hors.e.m.e.n should only pa.s.s over my body.

The foremost of them was Chimu himself. When he saw that I had no intention of turning aside, he and his companion (who rode behind him) reined in their horses. The cacique was quivering with rage.

"My wife has gone off with your negro," he said, hoa.r.s.ely.

I made no answer.

"I saw you help her to mount. You have met her before. Mamcuna shall know of this, and my wife shall die."

Still I made no answer.

"Let me pa.s.s!"

I drew my _machete_.

Chimu drew his and came at me, but he was so poor a swordsman, that I merely played with him, my object being to gain time, and only when the other fellow tried to push past me and get to my left-rear, did I cut the cacique down. On this his companion bolted the way he had come. I galloped after him, more with the intention of frightening than hurting him, and was just on the point of turning back and following the fugitives, when something dropped over my head, my arms were pinioned to my side, and I was dragged from my saddle.

The foot-people had la.s.soed me.

CHAPTER XXV.

THE MAN-KILLER.

I was as helpless as a man in a strait waistcoat. When I tried to rise, my captors tautened the rope and dragged me along the ground. Resistance being futile, I resigned myself to my fate.

On seeing what had happened, the flying brave (a kinsman of Chimu's) returned, and he and the others held a palaver. As Mamcuna's affianced husband, I was a person of importance, and they were evidently at a loss how to dispose of me. If they treated me roughly, they might incur her displeasure. The discussion was long and rather stormy. In the result, I was asked whether I would go with them quietly to the queen's house or be taken thither, _nolens volens_. On answering that I would go quietly, I was unbound and allowed to mount my horse.

I do not think I am a coward, and in helping Senora de la Vega to escape and sending her off with Gahra, I knew that I had done the right thing.

Yet I looked forward to the approaching interview with some misgiving.

Barbarian though Mamcuna was, I could not help entertaining a certain respect for her. She had treated me handsomely; in offering to make me her husband she had paid me the greatest compliment in her power; and how little soever you may reciprocate the sentiment, it is impossible to think altogether unkindly of the woman who has given you her love. And my conscience was not free from reproach; I had let her think that I loved her--as I now perceived, a great mistake. Courageous herself, she could appreciate courage in others, and had I boldly and unequivocally refused her offer and given my reasons, I did not believe she would have dealt hardly with me.

As it was Mamcuna might well say that, having deliberately deceived her, I deserved the utmost punishment which it was in her power to inflict. At the same time, I was not without hope that when she heard my defence she would spare my life.

By the time we reached the queen's house my escort had swollen into a crowd, and one of the caciques went in to inform Mamcuna what had befallen and ask for her instructions.

In a few minutes he brought word that the queen would see me and the people who had taken part in my capture forthwith. We found her sitting in her _chinchura_, in the room where she and I first met. Bather to my surprise she was calm and collected; yet there was a convulsive twitching of her lips and an angry glitter in her eyes that boded ill for my hopes of pardon.

"Is it true, this they tell me, senor--that you have been helping Chimu's wife to escape, and killed Chimu?" she asked.

"It is true."

"So you prefer this wretched pale-face woman to me?"

"No, Mamcuna."