CHAPTER VII.

A WAKING NIGHTMARE.

"Aye, strangers, and no jokers! But to my tale. Captain, in the first

place your Indian hireling has done his work well. He slew the don--the

youngster, I opine--and, as for the damsel, why I have had her on my

arm this half hour, till the storm forced me to _cache_ her!"

"Aha! Good!" said the captain, rubbing his hands on his nearly roasted

knees. "Albeit, I am sorry that the girl escaped. I'd as lief marry the

aunt to obtain the Miranda Hacienda, as wed the lass and be saddled

with the old lady."

"Well, she's next to dead. The Apache worried them sore, so that they

have had no food."

"And he? Did you _pay_ him, as I suggested?"

"I followed him up to administer the dose of lead, but I was

anticipated. Some strangers, I tell you, are roaming the desert, and

blew a tunnel through his head."

"And Pepillo?" questioned Ricardo.

"Either lying perdu till the storm abates, or gratified with the same

pill. It is a deuce of a heavy gun to carry a bullet so large and so

true."

"An American rifle?" queried the captain, uneasily, whilst Gladsden,

patting his gun silently, so conveyed to it the flattering fear with

which its prowess had inspired the depredators.

"It is this way," went on Ignacio, who saw that all eyes were bent on

him. "I struck the broad trail of the don and the Apache. I heard a

shot of an unknown piece, so I alighted, hoppled my mule, and, making a

circuit, entered the thicket afoot, going slow because of my spurs."

"Soon I came to a sort of glade, where a big tree stump stands. There

the Indian had sent an arrow through don José, and there the unknown

had sent a heavy bullet through him. All was quiet. No sign of the

young man, their guide. But the señorita, the heiress, lay as one dead

at the stump. I felt no pulse. Her eyes were closed. I took her up and

made for my mule, but, either I had missed my mark or had strayed.

No mule. Then, believing he would come here, since he has a sneaking

affection for your horses, captain, I tried to carry the girl on my own

way hither. She was light as a feather, but the thorns are a veritable

net to catch hummingbirds, and then, again, the storm about to break!

Faith, I hid her in a hollow tree, and hastened on. But I was overtaken

by the rain, and am as tattered as a _lepero_!"

"And Pepillo?"

"He was never born to be drowned in the deluge upon us," answered

lieutenant Ignacio, with no superabundance of fraternal affection, as

he sat at the fire, and overhauled the rent raiment. "We will fish for

him and the girl, in the day."

"But if she was spent, she will die of starvation," remarked Matasiete,

with a spark of humanity or of affection.

"Pshaw! As you say, you can, in the character of don Aníbal de Luna,

marry the old lady and so obtain the property; besides, I left my flask

of _aguardiente_ (firewater, or whiskey) in her cold pit, and that's

meat and drink, eh, gentlemen?"

A silence ensued, the others having nodded a double tribute to his

gallantry and the potency of raw spirits.

"I do not like the young man being out of your view," said Matasiete,

who had a small, carping spirit, "If he should not meet Pepillo and

Farruco--"

"Crawled off with an arrow in him to die in the bushes," was the reply.

"That Apache is one of the poisoners, you know, and nothing that will

not cure a rattlesnake bite, will subdue the venom of his wounds. A

good riddance whoever perforated his skull! And here's his health,"

holding up a horn of spirits on high as though he divined the actual

whereabouts of the avenger of don José de Miranda.

"There is Farruco still to come in," said the captain, yawning.

"Pah! He's under a stone like an iguana! If he eludes the rain as

cleverly as he does the leaden hail when we attack a caravan, methinks

he will turn up in the day as dry as the core of a miser's heart."

Meanwhile, the storm, which had but inadequately manifested its power

in the heralding blow and pour, now swept across the plain and buffeted

the tower. It began to rock, and the sentries, who set discipline at

defiance and had come into the shelter, were half afraid that they

had not taken the wiser course. Whatever their terror below, that of

Gladsden would have been more justifiable, for the loose stones atop

were moved at each gust, and some fell, both within and without. The

prospect of the lightning bolt flinging him scathed to the death, amid

ruins, upon the knot of robbers, was quite within reasonable surmise.

He wrapped his gun up beside him, so that its steel should not attract

the flame that seemed, when it played within his nook, to linger upon

him, and expected the worst between the two perils.

All at once, splitting the rolling thunder in its higher key, a

frightened voice cried out, "The horses! There is a stampede!"

Notwithstanding the pouring rain, half a dozen of the bandits rushed

out. But almost instantly returning, they gladly reported that the

agitation among the horses was caused, not so much by their fright at

the lightning, as by the mad gambols of Ignacio's mule, which, running

into the group tethered on the leeward of the tower, was plying tooth

and hoof in order to range himself near the horse to which he had taken

one of those devoted fancies not uncommon among the hybrids. Instead of

their forming a mass, rounded in shape, their tails outward, to meet

the rain, they half encircled the tower, accommodating themselves to

the wind, which was shifting to the southeast.

"The old tower holds firm," said Ignacio, his mouth full of beef, as he

plied a needle and fine deer's sinew for thread in the reparation of

his leggings.

"Only the gale shakes out a tooth of the old hag's head," said his

neighbour, on whom sundry fragments of the crumble had fallen.

"Ha!" ejaculated don Matasiete, abruptly, as he clapped his long hand

to his head, and then clutched the object which had struck him there,

and then rolled into the ashes. He had pulled it forth with amazing

alacrity. "Since when has this tower been built with cartridges?"

"What!" was the general cry, as all, like the speaker, looked upward.

"I tell you that this fell on my head. If it rains more of the like we

must dash out the fire, or we'll be blown higher than the eagle flies!"

Every man had drawn a weapon. Their ignorance of meteorology might be

great or little, but cartridges do not come with Mexican rain often

enough to be calmly accepted without an inquisition.

"The strangers!" cried the captain, prudently backing towards the wall

at the point furthest from the ladder's end. "Have they come in among

us?"

"Stuff! What man in his lightness of heart would leap thus into the

wolf's throat?"

"That's all very well put, Ricardo," rejoined the leader. "But they may

have preceded you, and not known that this is our lair. Just climb up

and see if, by any chance, we are receiving uninvited guests."

Ricardo, who was singled out, was a burly rogue, but he did not accept

this order. On the contrary he made a wry face and thrust his cheek

out with his tongue, which signified "go and do it yourself." This

incipient mutiny was clearly contagious, for all the bandits returned

their commander's interrogative look with another, defiant, stupid, or

complacent, pursuant to their natures.

Any child could have drawn the inference that the quarter whence

cartridges were showered might logically be expected to furnish a gun

or two. The figurative language of the western man ranking a packet of

lead and ball, or arrows, as the case varies of its being a white or

a red man who sends the message, as an equivalent for a challenge to

mortal combat--each bandit so interpreted the accident.

"Poltroons!" cried Matasiete. "Is there room, save on the platform

itself, for a troop of men? And would one man stand amid the lightning

on this rocking tower top! I tell you, if there is a man there it will

be in the nook where the ladder is suspended. One man! Well, where are

my brave fighting cocks now?"

One man, armed with such a gun as that cartridge of unusual calibre

promised, could very easily defend even that despicable nook against a

whole coop of gamecocks. So the hesitation to climb the ladder rather

augmented than diminished.

"Poltroons, eh?" observed Ignacio, to whom the incident perhaps came in

harmony with some project of his own. "If it is nothing uncommon to go

and see what owl has alighted in the tower top--an owl whose eggs are

cartridges, by the way--why don't you show your superior courage? Show

your hardly-too-often-distinguished daring, Captain, by going up and

wringing the neck of the fowl of evil omen yourself."

"G--go myself?" repeated Matasiete, whilst the robbers grinned more or

less audibly.

"Yes, go yourself," returned the impudent lieutenant, "the more

particularly as now that you have no impediment to seize the property

of don José de Miranda, you are going to marry richly and settle

down as a farming gentleman, and will have no more opportunities of

exhibiting your gallantry. Yes, go yourself! And, moreover, be quick

about it, or the strangers, whoever they may be, may come down in

impatience at your neglect of your duty of host and demand an account

of your reluctant hospitality, face to beard, themselves."

Matasiete did not number that defect among his of the sanguine dog

who perpetually lets go the substance to snap at the shadow. Whatever

the brilliancy of the prospect of obtaining the estate of Miranda, at

present that of losing the command of the salteadores was more at hand.

Besides, best knowing what valuables were sewn up in the hem of his

dress, or contained in his money belt, in case, by robbers' law, judged

a coward, and kicked out from their punctilious midst, stripped to the

skin, this property would be lost to him, the captain made an effort.

"Then I will show you that I never set a command which I would not have

executed myself!" spoken with a tremor, but loudly, to daunt the object

aimed at above. "I will mount, and not a cartridge, but the corpse

of anyone who has ventured to pry into our secrets, will shortly come

hustling down among ye!"

He made one bound to the ladder, put his knife between his teeth,

to prevent them chattering as much as to have the blade handy, and

ascended briskly with his long legs at the start.

It would be unjust to say that Gladsden, who had heard all this scene,

without caring to lean over and witness it lest the gleam of his eyes,

reflecting the fire rays, should betray him and draw a pistol shot, was

daunted by either the words of the redoubtable robber or his approach.

Any one man, or two or three, come to that, caused him no apprehension,

for he had all the advantages of position. But, after repulsing them,

how could he hope to hold out a long time without food or drink?

An idea of subterfuge had struck him, which was only feasible to a

seaman.

We observed that Matasiete had mounted the ladder briskly "at the

start." It is true. But, when he had some twenty feet yet of the ascent

to make, his action grew less commendable. He even framed an address,

in appeal, to be uttered in a whisper only loud enough for the unknown

occupant of the turret niche, full of promises or threats if he would

only keep quiet, and allow the investigator to return uninjured and

state there was an absence of ground for the alarm he had himself

unfortunately originated.

In the meantime the Englishman, attributing the slowness of this

upcomer's movement to his cowardice, believed he would be only too glad

to find no occasion for his long stay at the top of the ladder.

So he thrust his head out of the gap before mentioned, and examined the

metal arm socketed in the wall. It was not iron, but bronze, full three

feet long to the hook, a little thicker than the thumb. It was planted

solidly in a horizontal direction.

Without further reflection, hearing the respiration of captain

Matasiete, who had been goaded on by the whisperings ascending of his

men beginning to criticise his halt, Gladsden noiselessly pushed his

legs out, bent forward, seized the bronze bar with both hands with that

grip which enables the sailor to defy the squall to dislodge him from

the yard, and hung stiffly at arm's length over the void.

If the Mexican saw him in looking out of the window by one of the

less frequent electrical flashes, he intended to kick him under the

jaw, reenter, convert the body into a rampart, and fight whilst there

was a shot in the barrel, or till he had a chance to claim Ignacio's

safeguard. The lieutenant could but be grateful to a man who removed

his superior in his favour, and, moreover, brought him a fortune.

He had no more than assumed this trying position, being drenched to the

skin at the very first instant of exposure, before Matasiete at last,

with many misgivings pulling at his toes, lifted his head above the

flooring, and, with indescribable joy, saw there was no one there.

"Well, Captain?" was the half-ironical inquiry from below.

"There is no one, you asses!" was the polite reply, in a gleeful tone.

Gladsden sighed in relief as deep as the captain's.

"Stand from under!" added the latter, putting his knife in its sheath.

"I am coming down."

The Englishman was saved!

He prepared to return within his nook. The imminent danger was over.

The rain was unpleasant, and the uneasiness of horses beneath him,

which he heard whinnying as if they scented him, as was probable,

offered the chance of exciting the curiosity of a Mexican, who would

infallibly descry him if he looked up outside. So he wished to cut

short the feeling of fatigue which already attacked his wrists and

shoulders. But, at the first movement, what he believed a mere fancy

was confirmed as fact: the bar was set with an unalterable firmness

which spoke volumes for the mason of old, but the metal, in which too

much copper had been alloyed, or deteriorated by the weather, was

slowly bending, arching over the abyss!

No time was there to spare. He began by shifting his grip, moving one

hand inwards and bringing the outer up to it, to overcome the curve

in the rod. He looked to the socket to make sure that it still held,

when his anxious eyes met another pair in the very gap. They were the

Mexican robber's!

Matasiete had smelt the powder, at least, he had, in a final and idle

sweeping round of the visual ray, perceived the gun of the Englishman,

which he had, nevertheless, concealed with unusual and creditable care

in the angle of floor and wall.

Now, Matasiete placidly leaning on the sill of the window, so to call

it, fixed his ferocious eyes on Gladsden, gleaming with delight at

having so complete a chance to avenge on another his companions' taunts

of cowardice.

"The owl!" he said ironically.

"You devil!" returned Gladsden, in English, for in such critical

moments a man does not display his linguistical acquirements.

Devil, indeed! Matasiete drew his knife and slowly leaned outward in

order to slash the poor wretch's fingers to anticipate their relaxing

the grasp on the overdrooping bar.

The other made an offer to let go with one hand in the hope to get

at a pistol to blow out the fiend's brains at a snap shot, but the

impossibility of the feat was immediately so impressed upon him, that

he grasped with a double hold once more in deeper desperation.

"Oh! Any death but this waking nightmare!" he ejaculated, as a kind of

prayer.

Before his fingers should be pinched by his own weight, between the

metal and the brickwork, he thought, by a final spurt of strength, to

leap up and seize the grinning demon.

"No, you don't!" cried the captain, guessing his aim, and leaning well

out over him, gleaming steel in hand, "Thou shalt die like a dog."

He lifted his arm to strike. Gladsden shuddered in his anguish--his

grasp did not relax, rather was it cramped, but he was thrust by his

body coming sidewise to the wall, from that direction, and slid thus

perforce to the end of the bar downwards. He closed his eyes not to

see the knife and fiendish eyes, not to hear the devilish laugh, when

a sharp shot resounded below, a bullet shrieked beside his tingling

ear, and louder than the cry which the feeling of falling through space

wrung from the brave man, seemed the shriek of captain Matasiete,

"creased" through the prominent nose.

Gladsden descended, like a rock loosened from a sierra summit, upon the

plain below. Instead of the solid earth, however, he fell upon a warm

yielding substance--the backs of a couple of horses. Clutching the mane

of one at random--not the one on which he had landed, and of which he

all but broke the back and so left paralysed--he was instantly carried

away by the frightened steed.

Behind him, as he was borne helter-skelter over the prairie, converted

into a shallow lake, he heard the clamour of the Mexicans startled

by the shot, and later by a stampede in reality of their horses. It

seemed to him, stunned in a measure though he was, that in the thick of

the swarm of quadrupeds madly in flight like his own, but in another

direction, there was a figure, black and bowing its head between its

steed's ears, with a white object across the saddlebow.

But it was a mere glimpse! A new Mazeppa, he went careering on an

unchained thunderbolt over the prairie, whilst the old Tower quivered

in a fresh onset of the tempest.