"We may find a way to set him free, but it will need some thought,"

Father Agustin remarked. "When a thing looks difficult, force is not always the best means."

"It doesn't seem likely to be of much use now," Walthew gloomily agreed.

"I'd six of your countrymen with me until I lost them, and we were told that Gomez was filling Rio Frio with soldiers.... But how did you come to take a part in this affair?"

Father Agustin's eyes twinkled.

"I came as duenna. You were surprised when you heard what the senorita had undertaken, but it appeared that my presence might be something of a protection and, perhaps, a guarantee. One concludes that this did not strike you."

Walthew looked embarra.s.sed, but Father Agustin smiled.

"You look as if you need refreshment," he said. "We will have our supper now."

When the meal was finished, Father Agustin kept Walthew talking while Blanca leaned back silently in her chair. Her look was strained, and once Walthew surprised her cautious glance at the clock.

"I had forgotten the despatch-carrier," he said with some sharpness. "He doesn't seem to be coming."

"There is another road; longer and at present dangerous," explained Father Agustin. "We have had it watched, but this is the obvious way for a messenger to take."

"For all that," said Walthew steadily, "I hope the fellow will choose the other."

Neither of them answered. Blanca lay back in her chair; the priest sat with one elbow on the table, his cheek resting on his upturned palm. He was very tired.

Walthew studied him for a moment and then put his thoughts into words.

"It is curious, Father Agustin, that whenever I have met you things began to happen."

"It is possible. Perhaps a priest is most needed where there is trouble, and my mission is not always peace. One looks forward to the time when l.u.s.t and greed and cruelty shall no longer rule the hearts of men, but it has not come yet."

Walthew lighted the cigarette his host pa.s.sed over to him. Though Father Agustin had told him nothing new and his manner was by no means dramatic, he felt impressed. The quiet priest in his shabby ca.s.sock and clumsy, raw-hide shoes, had somehow a dominating personality. It was hard to tell what part he took in the revolution, but even if it were not directly active, Walthew thought him a moral force that must be reckoned with.

For a time nothing was said. There was no sound in the room except the ticking of the clock, and it seemed to Walthew that the house had a deserted feeling; he imagined that there was n.o.body in it except themselves. He grew angry and pitiful by turns as he glanced at Blanca.

It was a hateful task she had been given, but he saw that she meant to carry it out. He wanted to get on, because Grahame might be in danger, but he could not leave until the despatch-carrier came. One could trust Father Agustin, but Walthew felt that he must be on hand.

It got cooler, and a faint, earthy smell crept in through the windows.

Now and then the lamp flickered in a pa.s.sing draught, and once or twice they forced themselves to talk, but the effort was obvious and the voices presently died away. After this the quietness became oppressive, and by degrees Walthew grew drowsy. Rousing himself, he felt ashamed as he glanced at the girl. She did not move, but her pose was tense, and he knew that she was watchful. He resented the craving for sleep when she was bearing a heavy strain, but he had traveled fast since he left the lagoon and his exhausted body demanded rest.

He would not give in, and at last he started as a faint throbbing sound reached him from outside. It came from a long way off, but grew plainer, and he saw Father Agustin lean forward. Then Blanca stood up with a tinge of color in her face and a tightening of her lips. Somebody was riding hard down the road. There was a shout and a sharp answer.

For a few moments the three stood waiting with forced calm, and then a man hurriedly entered.

"Pepe is here, senor," he announced.

"Ah!" said Father Agustin quietly. "Bring him in." He turned to Walthew.

"It is one of our men who watched the other road. Something has gone wrong."

Walthew saw Blanca's expression change. Although she had meant to get the despatches, he knew she felt relieved.

Pepe entered. His face was wet with perspiration and he spoke with a breathless quickness that prevented Walthew's following what he said.

Still, it was plain that his news was bad, for his manner was apologetic, and Father Agustin looked thoughtful.

"Wait outside; we may want you," he said and turned to Walthew after dismissing the fellow. "The messenger must have been suspicious and our men have blundered. It was very dark and he came upon them suddenly.

One was shot as he seized the mule and the messenger escaped before they could mount, but he was forced to turn back."

"Could he pa.s.s them by making a round?"

"It is not likely. There is this road and the other, with thick forest between, and both are guarded. The man must wait for daylight, and I do not think he will reach Rio Frio. We may turn this to your advantage, but it needs thought."

He sat down and lighted a cigarette, and Walthew waited in silence until he looked up.

"It is possible that Gomez will offer your comrade his liberty in exchange for information he can use against Don Martin."

"Grahame will give him none," Walthew answered emphatically.

"Then I imagine he is in some danger. You would take a risk to rescue him?"

"Of course!"

"Very well. Gomez is waiting for instructions and probably knows that the messenger is a foreigner. I suggest that you impersonate him. The guards will let you pa.s.s, and Gomez will, no doubt, receive you alone.

Then you must try to extort an order for your friend's release."

"I'm a pretty good shot," said Walthew meaningly. "I might get him covered before I begin."

Father Agustin made a sign of impatience.

"Your best argument will be this--if you are detained for more than a few minutes, there will be a tumult in the town. Gomez will hesitate about forcing a rising before he gets his orders. Then as soon as you enter the house some of our people will find an excuse for loitering about the door. The soldiers are not well drilled; it might not be difficult to surprise and disarm the sentry, and then the house could be seized. For all that, there is a risk. Success will depend upon your nerve and coolness."

"I can't think of any better plan," said Walthew.

Blanca gave him a quick glance, and he thrilled as he saw a hint of trouble in her face. He thought she was unwilling that he should run into danger, but the next moment her eyes sparkled.

"It will work!" she said. "I am coming to help!"

Walthew made a sign of protest, but she would not let him speak.

"I promised to get the despatches, and the messenger may arrive while you are with Gomez. Then somebody must make arrangements for the door to be watched, and I am known in Rio Frio. I can find trustworthy men." She raised her hand imperiously. "You need not object, senor. I am going!"

Walthew was forced to acquiesce, and an hour afterward they left the _hacienda_ and rode through the dark bush with two well-armed men behind them.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE PRESIDIO

The sun hung low in the western sky, with a peak of the black cordillera cutting its lower edge, and Rio Frio shone in the glaring light. Seen from the road across the valley, the town had an ethereal look, for the tiers of square, white houses rose from a gulf of shadow and cl.u.s.tered upon the hillside, glimmering with a pearly l.u.s.ter, picked out by clumps of green. Behind were barren slopes, deepening in color to dusky purple as they ran back to the foot of the mountain wall.