*CHAPTER XXXI*
*Doctor Grampus and a French Cook*
An Amateur--Pantomime--At Cross Purposes--Miguel'sPocket-book--Links--In Cipher--Potatoes--Monsieur Taberne on Duty--TheCompelling Onion
When Jack came to himself it seemed to him that he was in a shaded roomby an open window, for the air gently fanned his temples, and he saw awide stretch of blue sky. He turned his aching head.
"Hullo!" said a voice in English.
"Hullo!" murmured Jack in reply, automatically, not knowing what hesaid. He looked with puzzlement at the speaker, a tall, stout youngfellow in guerrilla costume.
"There, I wagered you wouldn't know me in this rig. Don't you rememberDugdale, at Salamanca--Percy Dugdale, don't you know?"
"The Grampus!" whispered Jack.
"The very same. I might have bet you'd know Grampus better than my goodold respectable honoured ugly name. Here, drink this."
He held a cup to Jack's lips. After drinking, Jack closed his eyes andfell asleep.
"Where am I?" he asked, waking an hour later.
"Feel better? That's grand. Where are you? High up among the hills,in a sort of cave, lying on a pile of blankets, with a splendid outlookover--well, nowhere in particular."
"In the hills!" repeated Jack feebly. "How did I get there? I can'tremember. Is anything wrong with me? I don't seem to be able to move.I don't feel right."
"There's gratitude! Why, you're as right as a trivet. You're reallydoing splendidly! Now, you're not to talk. Doctor's orders."
"Oh!"
Jack was silent for a moment, and dozed away again.
When he woke, Dugdale came towards him from the entrance of the cave.
"What's the matter with me? How do you come here? I can't rememberanything."
"I said you were not to talk. Doctor's orders."
"Tell the doctor I want to see him."
Dugdale chuckled.
"Bet it'd be no go. Truth is, I'm the doctor. I've pulled you through,and when I get home I'm going to demand a diploma from the doctors'college or whatever it is gives a man a licence to be a sawbones."
"I must know all about it. I can't remember. How long have I beenill?"
"Nearly three weeks. Now, if you'll promise not to get excited, I'lltell you what happened. You know a man named Antonio?"
"Yes, of course; he helped me in Saragossa."
"Well, if he weren't a friend of yours I'd punch his head. He is theleader of this band of ruffians that scooped me up, two months ago, whenI was riding over the hills to see the fun at Saragossa. Antonio wasn'twith them then. I couldn't understand a word they said. They couldn'tunderstand a word I said. I roared 'Inglese! Inglese!' till I wassick. No good. They kept me with them and made me get into thisoutrageous toggery, and with them I've been ever since, like a canary ina cage."
"But--"
"You mustn't talk. Doctor's orders. Lucky for you I was here, orthey'd have sent you to kingdom come. With their nasty messes!--ugh!"
"Where did you get your medicines, then?"
"Silence! Don't believe in medicine. Bet Antonio three to one inFrenchmen--only he couldn't understand--that I'd pull you through oncold water; and I've done it,--thank God!"
The sudden change to earnestness in Dugdale's tone was almost comic.
"And you were pretty bad, I can tell you. Raved like one o'clock. Allabout Pomeroy and Pepito, and some chap whose name rhymed with ass, andMig Prig--most about Mig Prig,--and you laughed and shouted 'Fire themine!' and 'Pommy, I'll punch your head,' and all sorts of funnythings."
"But what made me ill?"
"A villainous stab in the back. By gum! if I had the beast here I'dtrounce him, I bet I would. You and Antonio had captured aforaging-party of French at a country-house down there; you tackled theofficers single-handed; dashed plucky of you, begad! and you sprang outafter a scoundrelly Spaniard who escaped, a fellow in French pay; andafterwards you were found among the olives with a hole in your back andyour sword covered with blood."
"I remember now," cried Jack. "I must get up. I must save Juanita."
He tried to rise, but found that he had no power.
"Juanita be hanged, whoever he may be. Lie still, and don't talk. Ihaven't finished yet. Wish I'd been with you, but these confoundedbrigands won't let me stir from head-quarters. I've had the mostdisgusting luck. I came out to see the fun, and hanged if I've seen anyat all. Well, they found you with a hole in your back and brought youhere, and they were in a deuce of a way about you. They had a score ormore of French prisoners with them, including officers, one of them afat, red-faced fellow--"
"I remember it all now. That's my friend the commissary."
"Well, he's peeling onions at this moment. A little change for him, butall in the same line of business. It was he told me what had happened;lucky I can make out two French words out of ten. By Jove! whatbloodthirsty ruffians these Spaniards are! If it hadn't been for me allthe prisoners would have been garroted or roasted before slow fires, orsomething. When I saw what was in the wind my blood boiled. I couldn'tstand that; no Englishman could; so I made 'em a speech. Lord! I neverknew I could rattle it off so; I must go into Parliament. Of coursethey couldn't understand what I said, but I threw my arms about, andpointed to my neck, and shook my head, and generally played the goat, asI've seen 'em do at the hustings; and they made out what I meant, and sothe prisoners are here still,--except the captain, who died ofover-drinking."
At this moment Antonio came quietly into the cave; he had been in andout during Jack's periods of unconsciousness, and now showed every markof delight at his impending recovery.
"The saints be praised, Senor!" he said. "We feared you would die. Weshould have grieved."
Jack was touched by his simple sincerity.
"I am not gone yet," he said, smiling, "thanks, I understand, to myfriend Senor Dugdale here."
"He is a clever doctor, Senor," said Antonio.
"He tells me that you have the Frenchmen we captured at Morata."
"Si, Senor, and another lot too."
"Indeed! It is well that he managed to persuade you to do them noharm."
"What does the Senor mean?"
"My friend Senor Dugdale tells me that you were going to torture theprisoners, and he made a speech and--"
"Oh, that!" exclaimed Antonio, with a wave of the hand. "We didn'tunderstand. We thought the Senor wanted us to cut all their throats;but I knew you would not like that."
Jack became almost hysterical with laughter at this explanation, andDugdale bundled Antonio out of the cave, and told Jack he must go tosleep again. He allowed no more talk on that day, but the patient wasso much better next morning that he made no objection when Jack asked tosee the guerrillero again.
"I want to hear what has happened," said Jack to him. "I am anxious."
"I know, Senor; but there is no need. The day after we got back withthe prisoners, the gitano Pepito came and said the Senorita Juanita hadbeen captured by the French and was living with a colonel's lady inMorata. I got my men together and we went down at once, and in thenight surprised the French, killed a great many, and captured the rest.But the Senorita was not among them. We found the colonel's lady; shetold us that the Senorita had escaped."
"Where is she?" asked Jack anxiously.
"We do not know, Senor. The boy Pepito was frantic; he said you wouldpunish him for losing the lady, and he went away to find her. He hasnever come back."
"Did he say anything about Senor Priego--the man who was in Saragossa,you remember?"
"He said that Senor Priego was with the French who captured theSenorita, but no more."
"And you did not capture him at the house? It was he I was fighting inthe olive-grove."
"Por Dios, Senor, if I had known that! When we found you lying on theground we let a few minutes slip. We thought you were dead, Senor. Thenwe searched all around, but we co
uld find no one. Was it the cursedafrancesado that wounded you, Senor?"
"No. It was someone who came behind my back; his servant, I have nodoubt. He has twice attempted my life."
Antonio swore a hearty oath, and vowed a terrible vengeance shouldeither Priego or his servant fall into his hands. Jack was muchperturbed. He hoped that Juanita in escaping from the French hadescaped also from Miguel, but the latter had much to gain by not lettingher slip through his hands.
"There is one thing, Senor, yet to be told," added Antonio. "In themorning, when we were bringing away the prisoners, one of my men foundthis at the back of the house, lying on the grass."
He produced a leather pocket-book, which he handed to Jack.
"I can't have this," said Dugdale, entering at this moment. "You're notwell enough yet to be bothered with business."
"You will do me more good by letting me get to the bottom of things. Myhand's all wobbles. Take the pocket-book, old fellow, and tell me whatis in it."
Dugdale opened the case, and, taking out a number of papers, unfoldedthem one by one.
"All in foreign lingos," he said ruefully. "Can't read one of them."
"Let me see them," said Jack.
Dugdale handed him one of the papers. It was a pass through the Frenchlines, signed by Marshal Lannes. At the first glance Jack understood.The pocket-book must have been jerked from Miguel's pocket when he fellon escaping from the house. Jack examined the papers eagerly. Thesecond was a note from the marshal's aide-de-camp Saint-Marc: "Inconsideration of Monsieur Priego's services to the Government of HisMajesty King Joseph, his excellency will use his influence with thecommandant at Bayonne to facilitate the interview sought by MonsieurPriego". The third was a memorandum evidently relating to privatebusiness. The fourth was a long blue paper, on unfolding which Dugdalecried:
"By George, Lumsden, this is curious! Hanged if there isn't your namehere!"
Jack took the paper with still more eagerness. He saw at once that itwas in the same handwriting as the letter he had received from DonFernan Alvarez at Salamanca. It was in Spanish, addressed to Mr.Lumsden, and Jack had only to read a few words to be assured that thiswas the very letter entrusted to the charge of General Palafox--theletter whose disappearance had so much perplexed him. Before he hadread more than two or three lines, however, Antonio broke in:
"Senor, I know that paper. I saw it often in the hands of PabloQuintanar in Saragossa. He used to take it out of his pocket everynight and read it, and always when he came to a certain place hestopped, and frowned, and cursed. I am sure it is the same."
In a flash the mystery of Quintanar's assassination was made plain toJack. Miguel must have discovered in some way that the letter was inthe possession of the guerrillero, and the wretched man had been slainfrom behind by one-eyed Perez while Miguel tried to wrest the paper fromhim. Jack was aghast at this additional proof of Miguel's villainy; hisheart misgave him as he thought of what might be Juanita's fate.
He read the letter. It gave a clear narrative of the events of whichJuanita had told him--Don Fernan's making up of the accounts of thebusiness, the journey from Barcelona to Saragossa, the ambush on theroad, the suspected treachery of Miguel Priego. Then followed adeclaration of the old merchant's intentions in regard to his property.In the last sentence he stated that the place where the treasure hadbeen concealed was known only to his servant Jose, but that the secretwas contained in a short postscript, which could only be read in thelight of a private communication made to Jack himself in Salamanca.
Jack looked eagerly at the postscript. He uttered an exclamation of joyas he realized that Miguel must have found the letter useless to him.For the postscript consisted of a single line of sprawling unevencapital letters, set close together, not divided into words, andconveying to the uninitiated absolutely no meaning.
"What do you make of that?" said Jack, handing the letter to Dugdale.
"No good. Don't know a word of Spanish except pan, agua, cebolla, whichI hear every day, and a few--interjections, I think they call 'em ingrammar."
"I don't mean the letter, I mean the postscript."
"The postscript!" He held the paper at arm's-length, shut one eye, andfrowned. "H'm! Looks like a cat's swearing, or Welsh. Too bad evenfor Spanish. Some infant set to practise his capitals, eh?"
Jack smiled.
"I'm as much in the dark as you are. Perhaps you wouldn't mind making acopy of the letters, in case the original goes astray?"
"Very well. Bet you I'll make a dozen mistakes. It dazzles my eyes.You'd better call 'em out one by one."
Accordingly Jack read the twenty-nine letters off separately, andDugdale, whose inaptitude with the pencil was clearly shown by thefrequency with which he licked his lips, made laborious strokes on asheet of paper taken from Miguel's note-book.
"There," he said, when the task was finished. "Looks a deal prettierthan the original, don't it?"
In big boyish capitals Jack saw the following puzzling sentence:--
S E O S F L S A E O A P E J E J P J J F J P J X P A P P F
"It's all right, Grampus," he said, after comparing it with theoriginal. "How long shall I be on my back here?"
"Can't say. Why?"
"Because I've something to do when we've discovered the cipher. You andI must do that, and, by all appearance, it will take time."
"No good asking me. Never answered a riddle in my life. Blinks ofMerton tried me just before I came down. Strolled into my room onemorning--Blinks always dawdles,--threw his leg over a chair, and pipedup: 'Grampus, my dear, would you like to answer a question?' 'Well?'says I. 'Tell me,' says he: 'Why do birds in their little nests agree?''Bet you they don't always,' says I. He was put out; I could see it.He don't like a chap to be serious, you know. Yet he's a good sort; soto please him I said: 'Why do they, then?' 'Because if they didn'tthey'd fall out,' says he, and strolled away quite happy. I call thatmighty clever, don't you?"
Jack made a rapid recovery. The fresh air, the good simple food, theunremitting care of Dugdale and Antonio, and perhaps, more than all, hisown strong determination, soon set him upon his feet. When he was firstallowed by the Grampus to leave the cave, he was much amused at thesight of Commissary Taberne sitting on an upturned pail, peelingpotatoes, and singing as blithely as a bird:
"Ma mie, Ma douce amie, Reponds a mes amours; Fidele A cette belle, Je l'aimerai toujours.
Si j'avais cent coeurs, Ils ne seraient remplis que d'elle; Si j'avais cent--"
"Bravo, monsieur, et bonjour!" said Jack,
"Ha! Qui est-ce que j'ai l'honneur de voir?"
The commissary sprang off his perch, catching at the bowl of potatoesjust in time to prevent a cataclysm. He presented a queer figure as hestood there, in Spanish vest and pantaloons, with bare arms and legs,for it was a hot day. Laying his hand on his portly middle, he made abow as low as he conveniently could.
"I congratulate you, monsieur," he said. "I am pleased to see you oncemore in health. Ah ca! but you have the courage, you English! It wasmagnificent--to come into the room alone and face me, Gustave Taberne,single-handed. Parbleu! you took me by surprise, or--Ah! and Icongratulate myself that it was not my sword that wounded so admirable awarrior. Nom d'un tonnerre! that wretch, that scamp, that renegade,that Don Miguel What's-his-name--if I could catch him! Gr-r-r-r!"
"I hope you have been well treated, monsieur," said Jack politely.
The commissary shrugged.
"Me voici!" he said. "Here am I, a commissary-general of the emperor's,accustomed to feed huge armies, the winner of innumerable victories thatothers have the credit of,--and behold me, peeling potatoes for a herdof unwashed, thieving, villainous, abomin--"
"Stay, stay!" interrupted Jack. "I really cannot hear my friendsabused."
"Pardon, monsieur. I for one moment forgot myself. I have feelings, Iam sentimental, I am upset; I see myself on the road to glor
y; then,vlan! the vision dissolves; it is a mirage!"
"The marquisate is a little farther off, you mean, monsieur?"
"He quoi?"
Monsieur Taberne looked puzzled.
"Do you remember, monsieur," asked Jack, "a little inn at Olmedo, whereone day last November you made your first acquaintance with the puchero,and honoured with your conversation a young Spaniard, about my own age,who happened to be able to speak a little French?"
"H'm! h'm! I have a slight recollection of the incident. I got a gooddeal of information out of the young cockerel, if I'm not mistaken."
Jack smiled.
"You were looking forward then, monsieur, to being made a peer ofFrance, like Marshal Lefebvre, Duke of Dantzig. I am sorry that thislittle check has happened in your career. You promised then, youremember, to join me some day in drinking a bottle of Valdepenas--noneof your tarred vinegar of Toro, you know--when your duty was done. Youhave one more potato to peel, monsieur. While you are doing that, nodoubt my good friend Antonio will produce a bottle of Valdepenas fromhis store."
During this speech the commissary had stared at Jack in amazement.
"Par le sambleu!" he ejaculated, "it is the very same!"
He dropped down on his tub, his mouth agape, and mechanically took uphis last potato, which he began to pare with the dexterity of longpractice. He was evidently casting back to that November day, andracking his memory to recover the details of his conversation. Jack'seyes twinkled. The commissary caught his look, and, flinging thenewly-peeled potato into the bowl, uttered a huge guffaw.
"Zut!" he cried, "I see twice, monsieur, that you are a dangerous personto meet. One needs to be of the greatest discretion. It is not onlyyour sword that is formidable. Tenez: voici le Valdepenas! I had hopedyou would have been my guest. N'importe; Valdepenas is Valdepenas. Thefortune of war is now to you; perhaps on another occasion--"
"No, thank you," said Jack, laughing, "unless our two nations are atpeace. Let me say, monsieur, how glad I am that you take your littlemischance with so much philosophy. I am not in command here, of course,but if there is anything I can do--"
"Morbleu, monsieur, you can do me an infinite favour. The potatoes--theyare nothing; but the onions!--sapristi! when one weeps for sentiment, itis noble, it is French; but when one weeps for onions, it is adegradation. Bien sur! precisement ca! allez!"
Boys of the Light Brigade: A Story of Spain and the Peninsular War Page 34
