by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.
A TRANSFORMATION.
While the ladies set down upon the street were still plaintivelyappealing to those around, the carriage from which they had been sounceremoniously ejected was tearing along the Calle de San Francisco,going direct for the Acordada! But nothing could be farther from thethoughts of those in it than a return to that grand gaol, or evenapproaching its door. All of them knew there was a regular guard there;and instead of a single musket missing fire, they would more likely besaluted with a full volley, sending a shower of bullets about theirears. Bad marksmen as the Mexican soldiers are, they could not allmiss. But even if they passed through that unscathed, beyond was the_garita_ of San Cosme, with another guard there. Indeed, go what waythey would, there was none leading out into the country without a_garita_ to be got through--and for the country they were aiming.
In these gates, however, there was a difference as to the strength oftheir guard detail, and the possibilities of their being passed. All ofwhich one of the fugitives well understood--Rivas, who, as a matter ofcourse, had assumed direction of everything relating to their flight.When opposite the old convent, which gives its name to the street, heleaned his head out of the carriage window, and said to the _cochero_:--
"Take the route by El Nino Perdido. You know the way; show it to him."
The "him" was Cris Rock, who still had hold of the reins, and who, notunderstanding Spanish, could not be addressed direct.
The result of the order was, that shortly after, the horses were headedinto a side street, indicated to the Texan by a nod perceptible only tohimself. It would not do for the real coachman to appear as aidingtheir escape; though there was no danger of the dwarf observing it--thelatter having been crammed down into the boot--where he was held withhis head between Rock's huge thighs, as in a vice.
The street into which they had turned was a narrow one running along adead wall--that of the ancient monastery, which occupies acres ofground. And in its strip of sidewalk just then there was not apedestrian to be seen--the very thing Rivas had been wishing for. Againspeaking out, he said:--
"Slowly for a bit. I see a _seraph_ out there. Tell the Tejanos to putit on."
For the next hundred yards or so--along the dead wall--the horses wentat a walk, they inside the carriage, as also one on the box, all thewhile busy as bees. And when they came out at the end of the quietstreet entering upon a more frequented thoroughfare, the brisk pace wasresumed; though no one could have believed it the same party, seen but aminute or two before driving at a racecourse speed along the Calle dePlateros. Jose alone looked the same, in his sky-blue livery andcockaded hat. But the big man by his side had so far effected a changethat his mud-stained habiliments were hidden under an ample _seraph_,which covered him from neck to ankles; while the little one wasaltogether invisible, and under a threat of having his skull kicked inif he attempted to show himself.
Alike quick and complete had been the transformation of the "insides."There now sat two gentlemen, decently, indeed rather stylishly dressed--one wearing a blue cloth cloak with velvet collar; the other a scarlet"manga," with gold bullion embroidery from neck to shoulders.
About the equipage there was little now to make remark upon, or cause itto be regarded with suspicion. Some rich _haciendado_, who had been atthe laying of the foundation-stone, on return to his country house,taking a friend along with him. The strapping fellow on the box mightbe mayor-domo of the estate--they are usually tall men--who had taken afancy to try his hand at driving, and the coachman had surrendered himthe reins. All perfectly natural, and _en regle_, even to the rapidspeed at which the horses were put. The driver not accustomed tohandling the ribbons would account for this. Besides, the sun wasgetting low, the _casa de campo_ might be a good distance from town, andsuch a splendid turnout, belated on a country road would be liketempting Providence, and certainly the _salteadores_!
How little would its occupants have regarded an encounter withhighwaymen. Perhaps just then they would have welcomed it. Nor muchdid Rivas anticipate further trouble in the streets of the city. He wasfamiliar with those they were now driving along, and felt no fear ofbeing obstructed there--at least by the people. Had they hung theirchain out of the carriage window and exposed the prison dress, no one inthat quarter would have cried "Stop thief!" The man who should so cry,would run the risk of having his clamour suddenly silenced.
For all they had apprehensions of the keenest. If they were in nodanger while in the streets, they would be when parting from them--at ElNino Perdido. That gauntlet had yet to be run.
But while thinking of it, they had not been idle; instead, all the whileplanning and preparing for it; Rivas instructing the others as to howthey should act.
"A _garita_ of the usual kind," he said to Kearney, making known thenature of the anticipated obstruction; "a gate across the road, with aguard-house alongside. There's sure to be a sergeant and eight or tenfiles in it. If, by good luck, the gate be open, our best way will beto approach gently, then go through at a gallop. If shut, we'll becalled upon to show our best diplomacy. Leave all that to me. Failingto fool the guard, we must do battle with it. Anything's better than betaken back to the Acordada. That would be sure death for me; and, if Imistake not, for yourself, Senor."
"I'm sure of it. If we can't get through without, let us fight our way,whatever the result."
"Take this pair, then. They seem the most reliable. You _Americanos_are more skilled in the use of fire-arms than we. With us steel ispreferred. But I'll do the best I can with the other pair."
This had reference to two pairs of pistols discovered under the carriagecushions. Nor were they the only weapons there; besides them were twolong-bladed knives, and a pearl-handled stiletto--the last a tinyaffair, which looked as though taken from the toilet case of a lady.
"See that yours are loaded and in firing order," Rivas added, at thesame time looking to his own.
The injunction was not needed, as the Irishman was already examining theweapons put into his hand, with a view to their efficiency.
Both pair of pistols were of the old-fashioned duelling kind--flintlocks, with barrels nearly a foot in length. Like as not theCondesa's father and Don Ignacio Valverde, in days long gone by, hadvindicated honour with them.
The inspection was quick and short, as had been all that preceded; panssprung open, showing them filled with powder; rammers run into thebarrels, then drawn out again, and replaced in their thimbles.
"Mine," said Kearney, first to report, "are good for two lives."
"And mine the same," rejoined Rivas, "unless I'm laid low before I canpull the second trigger. Now to dispose of the knives. My countryman,the _cochero_, however trustworthy, mustn't show fight. That would ruinall afterwards. But, if I mistake not, your colossal comrade is the manto make play with one of them in a pinch."
"You may be sure of it. He was in the Alamo with Bowie, and at Goliadwith Fanning. Don't fear putting a knife into his hands; he'll makegood use of it if we're driven to close quarters."
"Let him have it, then. You give it, and tell him all."
Kearney getting hold of one of the two knives, that seeming best suitedfor the hands he designed putting it in, passed it on to Cris Rock--notthrough the carriage window, but a hole cut in the leathern hood by theblade itself. Speaking through the same, he said--
"Cris! we've got to run a gate where there's a guard of soldiers--maybea dozen or so. You're to drive gently up, and, if you see it open, passthrough--then lay on the whip. Should it be shut, approach morebriskly, and pull up impatient-like. But do nothing of yourself--waittill I give you the word."
"Trust me, Cap; ye kin do that, I kilk'late."
"I can, Cris. Take this knife, and if you hear pistols cracking behind,you'll then know what to do with it."
"I gie a guess, anyhow," rejoined the Texan, taking hold of the knife,in a hand passed behind him. Then bringing it forward and under hiseyes
, he added, "'Taint sech a bad sort o' blade eyther, tho' I weesh'twas my ole bowie they took from me at Mier. Wal, Cap; ye kin count onme makin' use o't, ef 'casion calls, an' more'n one yaller-belly gittin'it inter his guts; notwithstandin' this durnation clog that's swingingat my legs. By the jumping Geehosophat, if I ked only git shet o' thatI'd--"
What he would do or intended saying, had to stay unsaid. Rivasinterrupted him, pulling Kearney back, and telling him to be ready withthe pistols. For they were nearing the place of danger.
