第 37 页

open letter," and he handed her Lord Wellington's letter.

She glanced through it and turned pale. "Your brother! is he in the

hands of the guerillas? Where? How?"

"He is in the hands of that scoundrel Nunez; he swore he would be

revenged for that day's work, and he has had Peter carried off. No

doubt to kill him with torture."

"Oh! and it is through me," Madame Reynier exclaimed, greatly

distressed. "What can we do! Please let me consult with my friends,

every soldier shall be at your service," and she opened the door.

"Colonel Deschamps, Jules, come here directly, and bring Louise with

you." These officers, on entering, were struck dumb with astonishment

on finding a young peasant instead of an old pedler, and at seeing

tears standing in Madame Reynier's eyes. "Louise," she said to her

daughter, "look at this gentleman, who is he?"

The child looked hard at Tom; he was dressed nearly as when she first

saw him--and as he smiled she recognized him. "Oh, it is the good

boy!" she cried, and leaped into Tom's arms, and kissed him heartily.

"Do you think we have gone mad, Jules, Louise and I? This is one of

the young English officers who saved our lives, as you have often

heard me tell you."

Jules stepped forward, and shook Tom's hand heartily, but Colonel

Deschamps looked very serious. "But, madame," he began, "you are wrong

to tell me this."

"No, Colonel;" Madame Reynier said, "here is a letter, of which this

gentleman is the bearer, from Lord Wellington himself, vouching for

him, and asking for the help of every Frenchman."

Colonel Deschamps read it, and his brow cleared, and he held out his

hand to Tom. "Pardon my hesitation, sir," he said in Spanish; "but I

feared that I was placed in a painful position, between what I owe

to my country, and what all French soldiers owe to you, for what you

did for Madame Reynier. I am, indeed, glad to find that this letter

absolves me from the former duty, and leaves me free to do all I can

to discharge the latter debt. Where is your brother, and why has he

been carried off? I have known hundreds of our officers assassinated

by these Spanish wolves, but never one carried away. An English

officer, too, it makes it the more strange!"

Tom now related the story of Peter's abduction; the previous attempts

of members of Nunez's band to assassinate them, and the reasons he

had for believing that Peter was close to, if not already at, the

headquarters of that desperado.

"Is he still there?" Jules asked. "We routed him out directly the

general came up here. My aunt declared herself bound by a promise, and

would give us no clue as to the position of the village, but he had

made himself such a scourge, that there were plenty of others ready to

tell; if we had known the roads, we would have killed the whole band,

but unfortunately they took the alarm and made off. So he has gone

back there again. Ah! there is the general."

Madame Reynier went out to meet her husband, and drawing him aside

into another room, explained the whole circumstance to him, with

difficulty detaining him long enough to tell her story, as the moment

he found that his wife and child's deliverer was in the next room, he

desired to rush off to see him. The story over, he rushed impetuously

into the room, where Tom was explaining his plans to his French

friends, seized him in his arms, and kissed him on both cheeks, as if

he had been his son.

"I have longed for this day!" he said, wiping his eyes. "I have prayed

that I might some day meet you, to thank you for my wife and child,

who would have been lost to me, but for you. And now I hear your

gallant brother is paying with his life for that good deed. Tell me

what to do, and if necessary I will put the whole division at your

orders."

"I do not think that he will have above fifty men with him, general;

say eighty, at the outside. Two squadrons of cavalry will be

sufficient. They must dismount at the bottom of the hill, and I will

lead them up. We must not get within sight of the hill till it is too

dark for their look-out to see us, or the alarm would be given, and we

should catch no one. We shall know if they have arrived, by a fire my

man is to light. If they have not come, then I would put sentries on

guard upon every road leading there, and search every cart that comes

up; they are sure to have got him hid under some hay, or something of

that sort, and there are not likely to be more than two or three men

actually with it, so as not to attract attention. It will be all right

if they do not arrive there to-day."

"It is about five hours' ride for cavalry," the general said, "that

is at an easy pace; it will not be dark enough to approach the hill

without being seen till eight o'clock. Two squadrons shall be paraded

here at three o'clock. I will go with you myself; yes, and you shall

go too, Jules," he said, in answer to an anxious look from his nephew.

"In the mean time you can lend our friend some clothes; you are about

the same size."

"Come along," Jules said laughing; "I think we can improve your

appearance," and, indeed, he did so, for in half an hour Tom returned

looking all over a dashing young French hussar, and little Louise

clapped her hands and said--

"He does look nice, mamma, don't he? Why can't he stay with us always,

and dress like that? and we know he's brave, and he would help papa

and Jules to kill the wicked English."

There was a hearty laugh, and Jules was about to tell her that Tom was

himself one of the wicked English, but Madame Reynier shook her head,

for, as she told him afterwards, it was as well not to tell her, for

little mouths would talk, and there was no occasion to set everyone

wondering and talking about the visit of an English officer to General

Reynier. "There is no treason in it, Jules, still one does not want to

be suspected of treason, even by fools."

Sam watched all night, without hearing any sound of vehicles, but in

the morning he saw that several more guerillas had come in during the

night. In the morning parties of twos and threes began to come in

from the direction of Vittoria, and it was evident from the shouting

and noise in the village that these brought satisfactory news of

some kind. In the afternoon most of them went out again in a body

to the wood at the foot of the hill, and soon afterwards Sam saw a

cart coming along across the plain. Two men walked beside it, and

Sam could see one, if not two more perched upon the top of the load.

Three others walked along at a distance of some fifty yards ahead, and

as many more at about the same distance behind. He could see others

making their way through the fields. "Dis berry bad job," Sam said

to himself; "me berry much afraid dat Massa Tom he not get back in

time. Der's too many for Sam to fight all by himself, but he must

do someting." Whereupon Sam set to to think with all his might, and

presently burst into a broad grin. "Sure enough dat do," he said; "now

let me arrange all about what dey call de pamerphernalia." First, he

emptied out the contents of a couple of dozen pistol cartridges; he

wetted the powder and rolled it up in six cartridges, like squibs,

three short ones and three much longer. Then he opened Tom's kit,

and took out a small box of paints, which Tom had carried with him

for making dark lines on his face, and in other ways to assist his

disguise. Taking some white paint, Sam painted his eyelids up to his

eyebrows, and a circle on his cheeks, giving the eyes at a short

distance the appearance of ghastly saucers.

"Dat will do for de present," he said; "now for business. If dey wait

till it get dark, all right; if not, Sam do for Nunez and two or three

more, and den go down with Massa Peter!"

Then carefully examining the priming of the pair of pistols, which

he carried--the very pistols given to Peter by the passengers of the

Marlborough coach--he prepared to set out.

It was now six o'clock, and he calculated that the waggon would by

this time have mounted the hill, and reached the village; he had

already collected a large heap of dry sticks and some logs, at the

point Tom had pointed out, these he now lit, and then started for the

top of the hill. Looking back, just as he reached the crest, he could

see, knowing where it was, a very light smoke curling up over a clump

of trees which intervened between him and the fire, but it was so

slight that he was convinced that it would not be noticed by an

ordinary observer. Sam saw at once, on reaching the top of the hill,

that the guerillas were crowded round the waggon, which stood at the

edge of a small clump of trees in the middle of the village. The

moment was favourable, and he at once started forward, sometimes

making a detour, so as to have the shelter of a tree, sometimes

stooping behind a low stone wall, until he reached the first house

in the village. It was now comparatively easy work, for there were

enclosures and walls, the patches of garden-ground were breast-high

with weeds, and, stooping and crawling, Sam soon reached a house close

to the waggon. It was a mere hut, and had not been repaired. The roof

was gone, but the charred shutters and doors still hung on their

hinges. It was the very place from which to see without being seen.

Sam entered by a door from behind, and found that, through a slight

opening in the window-shutter, he could see all that was going on.

Some fifty guerillas were standing or sitting in groups at a distance

of twenty yards.

In the centre of the groups, lying on the ground, was a figure which

he at once recognized as Peter. It was wound round and round with

ropes; beside it stood, or rather danced, Nunez pouring forth strings

of abuse, of threats, and of curses, and enforcing them with repeated

kicks at the motionless figure.

"De debil!" muttered Sam, "me neber able to stand dis. If you not stop

dat, Massa Nunez, me put a bullet through dat ugly head of yours, as

sure as you stand dere. But me mustn't do it till last ting; for,

whether I kill him or not, it's all up with Massa Peter and me if I

once fire."

Fortunately Nunez was tired, and in a short time he desisted, and

threw himself down on the ground. "Take off his ropes, one of you," he

said: "there would be no fear of his running away had he three or four

days to live, instead of as many hours. Take the gag out of his mouth,

throw some water over him to bring him round, and pour some wine down

his throat. I want him to be fresh, so as to be able to enjoy the

pleasure we have in store for him. And now let's have dinner."

Sam felt that for another hour at least Peter was safe, and

therefore, with the same precaution as before, he crept away from his

hiding-place, through the village, and over the hill-crest, to the

place where he had made his fire. The logs were burning well, but gave

out but little smoke. Sam looked at the sky. "Dusk cum on berry fast,"

he said; "another hour Massa Tom come on with soldiers. If he see

fire, he hurry up sharp." So saying, Sam heaped on a pile of wood,

and then made his way back. He knew that Tom would not approach until

it was too dark for the movements of the troops to be seen by the

look-outs, and that he could not be expected to reach the village

until fully an hour after dark. "Just another hour and a half," he

said to himself; "ebery thing depend upon what happen before dat

time." It was quite dusk before he regained the shelter of the

cottage. He had gone round by the wagon, and had taken from it a large

stable-fork, muttering as he did so. "Golly! dis de berry ting."

Close by he saw the carcase of a bullock which the guerillas had just

slaughtered, and from this he cut off the horns and tail.

When Sam peeped out through the shutter he saw that something was

going to be done. Nunez was sitting smoking a cigarette, with a look

of savage pleasure in his face, while the men heaped up a large fire

in front of the trees.

"I don't like dat gentleman's look," Sam said to himself. "It's time

dis chile begin to dress for de pantomime, dat quite plain. Massa Tom

get here too late." Thus saying, Sam began to deliberately undress.

Peter, his arms and feet still bound, was sitting with his back

against a tree, watching what were, he was convinced, the preparations

for his death. For the last ten days he had lived in a sort of

confused and painful dream. From the moment, when, upon entering his

room two hands suddenly gripped his throat, others thrust a gag in the

mouth, and then blindfolded him, while some one from behind lashed his

arms to his side, and then altogether, lifting him like a log, carried

him downstairs and threw him into a cart, he had not till now seen

anything. The bandage had never been removed from his eyes, or the

cords from his limbs. Sometimes he had been made to sit up, and soup

and wine had been poured down his throat, or a piece of bread thrust

into his mouth; then he had been again gagged and thrown into a cart.

Over him brushwood and fagots had been piled, and there he had lain,

until at night a stop was made, when he was taken out, fed, and then

thrust back again and covered over.

From the first he had never doubted who were his captors, or what was

his destination, and he therefore experienced no surprise whatever,

when, on his arrival at the village, on the bandage being taken off

his eyes, he saw where he was. That it was useless to beg for mercy of

the savages into whose power he had fallen he knew well enough, and he

looked as calm and indifferent, as if he did not hear a word of the

threats and imprecations which Nunez was heaping on him.