CHAPTER XXIV.

THE STRANGE MEETING IN THE DUNGEON.

A gentle tug at his coat made Roderic turn.

It was Inez, who desired to speak, and yet who knew she should not utter a word above the lowest whisper.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Tell me--are we not nearing there--I am so anxious--my heart almost suffocates me, for it beats like wildfire," she gasped.

He pitied her, for he could easily understand why she should thus feel distressed.

"Courage--we cannot be far away from his cell now. Bear up, and all will be well. To fail at this time would mean his death."

Roderic did not add that their own fate would probably be also sealed--he knew that fact only too well, but it was useless to mention it.

At any rate all Inez thought of was Leon's welfare.

She seemed to call upon some reserve force, and her companion knew the crisis had been safely passed, for which he was deeply thankful.

When he said he believed they were near the spot where they would find Leon, he spoke truly.

There were strong evidences of dungeons all around them, some with the doors entirely gone, while others had a stout barrier hanging from one great rusty hinge.

It might be supposed that ere long they would run across those still remaining in a good state of preservation, and in which prisoners were confined.

Perhaps an especial guard had been stationed in the passage.

If so it would be Roderic's duty to take care of him, and to this end he had previously made ample preparation.

Desperate measures are only carried to a successful issue by heroic treatment, and no man was better equipped for this purpose than the American who dared enter San Juan while the Spanish flag still waved over the walls.

The darkness was now against them, and it would have been almost impossible to advance but for a streak of luck that separated clouds and moon, and allowed the latter to sift her silvery radiance down through various breaches in the overhanging walls, thus dissipating to some extent the appalling gloom.

Thanks then to this feeble illumination Roderic with his keen vision was enabled to discover a figure ahead.

Spanish soldiers doing duty in the tropics are generally in the habit of wearing white uniforms made of some coarse drilling or canvas.

It was this fact that betrayed the presence of the guard, and Roderic mentally thanked his lucky stars for the favor.

He watched the man.

The Spaniard seemed nervous, and would walk up and down with jerky steps, stopping now and then to try the doors of several cells.

Roderic was unable to decide what the man was up to, since Spanish soldiers as a rule are not given to exert themselves overly much.

Now and then the fellow would stop, and at such times his attitude strongly reminded the watcher of one who was straining his hearing in the hope of catching some eagerly anticipated signal.

After a little reflection Roderic felt compelled to decide that the fellow was anxiously waiting for a relief guard to appear, although this hardly satisfied him.

His duty in the premises was clear enough.

That guard was in the way.

He threatened to block their game just when, after surmounting so many difficulties, it promised to bring them success.

Such a thing could not be allowed.

The guard would have to succumb, like all Spaniards, to superior Yankee dominion.

First he must give Inez warning as to his intentions, so that she might not be alarmed when he quitted her side.

He found her very sensible, for she realized that some such move must be adopted to get rid of the miserable sentry.

"Spare him not, senor--he has doubtless taken delight in torturing my Leon--have no pity on the wretch," she whispered in his ear, with considerable warmth.

Roderic had his own notion about the eternal fitness of things, and being a cool, sensible American instead of a hot blooded Spaniard, he was decidedly averse to shedding blood when such a thing might possibly be avoided.

There were other ways of accomplishing the same end, this Yankee brain decided.

With a few last words of caution to Inez, who was trembling all over with excitement, he left her and started upon his advance.

An old Indian fighter might have been proud of the progress Roderic made.

He imitated a cat creeping upon a bird, his eyes being glued upon the white garbed figure of the guard, and every movement governed by that of the man who carried the Mauser.

Foot by foot he went forward.

The guard was muttering to himself as he still moved restlessly from one heavy door to another.

Something undoubtedly disturbed him, but it was a mystery to Roderic, who could not quite catch the words he let fall, and which might have simplified matters had he heard them.

The closer he drew the more cautious he became.

Everything depended on the successful issue of his plans; even his own future happiness was at stake in the matter.

It may be taken for granted, therefore, that he exercised his utmost care, for after all there is no motive so positive of good results in a general way, as self interest--it makes a success of co-operative factories wherever tried.

Roderic was finally in a position to lay his plans for a finish.

He waited until the man's back was turned and then slipped forward to a certain dark doorway previously selected.

Then he awaited the return of the sentry--awaited him as the tiger lies in cover for his advancing prey, with muscles tense and drawn, and every small nerve on the alert for the desperate charge.

Ah! the fellow in pursuing his eccentric tactics had reached what appeared to be the terminus of his beat, and wheeling had started back, utterly unconscious of what lay in store for him and that each nervous step took him closer to his fate.

Roderic was perfectly cool and collected--he was not in the habit of giving way to excitement and losing his advantage.

As he thus lay in wait and watched the advance of the dusky figure which he had set out to overcome, he even selected the very portion of the sentry's person upon which he should throw his full force.

Closer still.

The man's fate hung like the sword of Damocles, as by a single hair.

Roderic timed his leap with such precision that he struck the sentry totally unawares.

A dark figure launched forward like a gigantic bat--the man only had time to give a gurgle of surprise when a firm hand closed on his throat, and the sound died there.

Such was the impetus of Roderic's advance that the two of them went to the stone floor.

Immediately the American felt his antagonist cease to struggle, and he knew the other must have been knocked senseless through the blow on the head received when he came in contact with the flagging.

The percussion had sounded loud enough at least, to account for his having lost all interest in affairs mundane.

Roderic hoped he was not killed, nor did he have any reason to believe such a fate had overtaken the wretched guard.

At least everything seemed to be working beautifully in his favor, and he certainly could find no cause for complaint.

What was to be done with this pretty thing, now that he had secured the prize?

The man might prove to be something of a white elephant on his hands.

However, his first move was to drag out some stout cord, with which he made the fellow's hands and feet secure.

In doing so he could not but notice,--through touch more than sight, since the darkness was only partially dissipated by the moon's inquisitive beams that forced an entrance--that the luckless guard had delicate hands such as he had seldom noticed among the common Spanish soldiers.

At another time he might have endeavored to assign some logical reason for this thing, but just at the present crisis it mattered little.

The end and not the means engrossed his fullest attention.

When he took hold of the senseless guard and began dragging him across the corridor to the shade that lay more densely in that quarter, it was only with the intention of getting him out of the way, so that in case any one came along he would not stumble over the fellow and thus have the peculiar status of affairs rudely thrust upon his attention.

Perhaps Roderic was not as careful as he might and should have been--at any rate he tripped and fell over some object lying in his way.

Even as he went down he was strongly impressed with the suspicion that what he had taken his cropper over was a human being, and possibly a second guard enjoying a quiet nap.

Hence, Roderic scrambled up in all haste with the intention of throwing himself upon the fellow, and if possible preventing him from giving the alarm, for that was what his wretched mistake might end in.

To his surprise as well as gratification there was not the least sign of an aroused sentry endeavoring to gather his scattered senses and shout for help.

All was silent.

He put out his hand, groping for the object which had been the cause of his tumble.

When finally he touched it a peculiar sensation flashed over him from head to foot, for in truth it was a human being.

Could the man be dead?

Had there been some drunken dispute between the guards resulting in a tragedy?

He remembered the peculiar actions of the man who now lay bound near by.

Bending over the second fellow he speedily made a discovery of some moment.

A strong scent of liquor greeted him and his hand came upon the flask still clutched in the miserable guard's hand.

Where he got it, and why the second man did not take his share were puzzling questions which Roderic only shook his head over.

For him it was quite sufficient that the two sentries had in different ways been rendered _hors de combat_, and would so far as he could see, give him no further trouble.

So he left them there, the second chap with his head resting lovingly upon the body of the toper, two of a kind and well matched, he considered.

Perhaps there would be a reckoning when the officer of the guard came around later, though if the flask still contained a portion of its original contents he might forgive the erring one.

Roderic sincerely hoped he had seen the last of the two guards--he expressed a low but earnest desire that their slumbers might be sweet, and indefinitely prolonged--at least until his desperate work had been accomplished.

He uttered a low signal, the same bird call that, trilling forth at the tower corner of the fortress had brought Inez to his side.

She heard and gladly tripped forward.

It was a supreme moment for her--the girl was tremendously excited, and cast several quick glances toward the spot where the demoralized section of the invincible Spanish army lay.

Roderic noticed how her eager hand crept toward her bosom as she looked toward the dimly seen figures, and he quickly said:

"Come, we must find the door of his cell."

"You leave foes upon the trail you must tread on your return," was the significant way in which she put it.

"They are helpless--God forbid I should do murder," he returned, knowing at the same time that the Spanish way was the safer way.

The first cell door was beside them.

Roderic, bending over discovered that it was secured by a heavy iron bar--so far as he could see there was no other obstacle to an entrance.

He seized upon this and exerting his strength threw it over.

It made something of a clanking sound, possibly subdued, but to Roderic's mind very like the gong of a railway station dining room.

Inez uttered a low cry of alarm and he could hear her whisper the name of her patron saint, as if invoking heavenly aid.

"It's all right--don't be alarmed," he said, encouragingly.

Roderic waited to draw out a little pocket lantern which when lighted would throw some illumination upon their path.

This done he tried the door, and finding it fast put his shoulder to it.

Under such pressure further resistance was utterly out of the question, and the heavy barrier quickly gave way.

Inez would have rushed headlong in but Roderic's sturdy arm prevented--he believed it was his duty to still lead the van so long as the future was unknown--it would be time enough to yield that place of vantage to his frail companion in the venture when success had been assured.

So they passed into the gloomy dungeon, the history of which would doubtless prove interesting reading as shedding a strong light upon Spain's methods of colonizing, for in the years gone no doubt many a political prisoner had been tortured here with all the despotic barbarism that marked the infernal Inquisition of old.

Looking eagerly around the cell Roderic almost immediately discovered the object of his search.

Some one was standing beside a chair at the further end--some one who had evidently risen hastily at the sound of the clanking iron bar--some one who uttered a cry at their rough entrance.

Roderic saw and was at once struck with the astonishing likeness to Georgia in the smooth faced young man standing there; but he had been prepared for that fact since she herself had impressed it on his mind when he demanded how he might know Leon should he meet him.

Yes, brother and sister were very much alike and the sight of him just then gave Roderic something of a shock, since it seemed as though he were gazing upon Georgia.

There was no longer any need of restraining Inez--at sight of the prisoner she had uttered a cry bubbling over with limitless delight and unable to longer keep back the eager desire to reach him, to convince her ravished eyes that they did not deceive her soul, she sped forward.

Not straighter does the arrow fly from the warrior's bow than this devoted Spanish girl went to the object of her devotion.

Surely eyes of love could easily recognize in the seeming youth the beautiful daughter of Morro's governor.

Her hat had fallen off in the struggle with Roderic, and her luxuriant hair dropped almost to her waist, rendering further deception utterly out of the question.

Roderic fully expected to see the amazed prisoner open his arms and eagerly take her close to his heart in a transport of joy.

It was only natural that he should look for just such an ending to the devoted wife's adventurous search.

To the astonishment of the American nothing of the kind occurred--indeed, a result about as contrary as one could well conceive, came to pass.

As Inez was about to throw her arms about the figure of the handsome young fellow, he put out his hand and gave her a vigorous push aside, a push that caused the poor girl to stagger back against the wall.

And with his great black eyes flashing with indignation the prisoner cried out:

"Do not dare to touch me--go back to yonder double faced traitor, and leave me to my fate. I would sooner be left here to moulder than be rescued by you, _creature_!"

Roderic was panic stricken--he could scarcely believe the evidence of his senses--the prisoner of the dungeon was to all appearances Leon, yet the voice was that of Georgia--the words evidently spoken by one racked with jealousy, who saw in Inez a hated rival!