CHAPTER XLIV.

THE METAMORPHOSIS OF DON CARLOS.

“Stand back!” commands Navarro, as his men start forward to the enraged Alvarez, whose fingers have twined about the insurgent leader’s neck. “Back, I say! I can handle this gentleman without assistance.”

Alvarez is as a child in the steely arms of El Terredo. The latter tears the clutching fingers from his throat, sweeps the Spanish captain off his feet and dashes him to the ground.

Half-stunned and crazed by passion, Alvarez struggles to his knees and whips out a pistol. It is knocked from his grasp before his arm straightens, as half a dozen watchful Cubans pounce upon him.

“Away with them!” orders Navarro, with a sweep of his arm, and as Alvarez and Barker are hustled off in the darkness he turns to Don Carlos, who has been a silent and trembling witness of the conflict.

“In heaven’s name, my brother, what brings you on this errand? Don Manuel must be mad.”

“Ah, Emilio, do not blame Don Manuel,” gently protests Carlos, as he embraces Navarro. “The matter was urgent, a courier was required, and I myself suggested that I be that courier. To see you again I would have dared the perils of the journey, even were nothing more at stake.”

“Brave heart,” murmurs Navarro, brushing back the ringlets from his brother’s brow. “But let this be your last commission, Carlos. I would not jeopardize your life for a thousand Cubas. But come, is the news you bring me verbal or written?”

For answer Carlos places a letter in Navarro’s hands, and the latter reads it by the light of the lantern. It is brief, and as he thrusts it into his pocket Jack steps forward.

“Ah, Ashley,” cries Navarro, grasping him by the hand; “the trick was quickly done, eh? Carlos, it is to our American friend that you owe your present safety and perhaps your life. It was he who warned me of the plot for your arrest.”

“Spare me any praise,” protests Ashley, as Carlos is about to express his gratitude. “By good fortune I became acquainted with Alvarez’ design, and further luck cast me in your brother’s way.”

“After you rode for miles into the mountains in search of me,” interposes Navarro.

“Yes,” laughs Jack, “for I had a suspicion that, single-handed, I should not have been a match for the Spanish captain and his men. Now, will you tell me, my friend, how you circumvented Alvarez so cleverly?”

“It was an accident. The Spaniards came down the road instead of the railroad track. When they located themselves at the crossing we established our party about 200 yards from them, to wait the coming of the train. The watch growing irksome, I and two of my men set forth to reconnoiter. We had scarcely proceeded fifty yards, when we stood face to face in the moonlight with two of the troopers.

“Instantly we threw ourselves upon them and stifled their attempts to sound an alarm. They were dragged back to our ambush, bound hand and foot, and pistols placed to their heads with orders that they be instantly shot at the first outcry. I rightly assumed that their companions would institute search for them, and shortly after two more troopers came up the road. These we took from the rear and when all four were safely secured the idea of exchanging our dress for theirs and rejoining Alvarez naturally suggested itself. The rest you know.”

“Yes, and I also know that only by a fraction of a second did I prevent your glittering sword blade from carving in twain the head of a very warm friend of mine.”

“How? The fellow who was holding Carlos?”

“The same. He is an American, like myself, but it suits his purpose for the present to masquerade as a soldier of Castile. At the moment I interfered you were about to slaughter the man to whom Carlos primarily owes his escape to-night, for it was through him that I learned of the plan to arrest the messenger to El Terredo.”

“San Pedro!” cries the impetuous Navarro, in tones of sincere regret. “I should never have forgiven myself. But I will at once set him at liberty and add the poor consolation of an honest apology.”

“That is exactly what I do not wish you to do. It was to avoid recognition that I rigged out in this uniform, and I am confident that Alvarez did not recognize me. Barker, that is my friend’s name, may or may not have discovered my identity when I cried out to you at the moment I clutched your arm. At any rate, I shall not attempt to ascertain. The principal point I wish to insist upon, if you will permit me, is that Alvarez and Barker shall not be separated; further, that they be permitted to proceed to Santiago within forty-eight hours.”

“Your wishes shall be respected, my dear Ashley,” says Navarro.

“Where have you had the prisoners taken?” asks Jack.

“To the ambush I spoke of, about 200 yards up the road.”

“And your further plans?”

“I intended to have marched the Spaniards back to the mountains as prisoners of war. Within the hour I shall send a courier to the revolutionary camp with orders to forward two hundred men with which to capture the supply train. They should arrive early to-morrow forenoon.”

“Good. That work successfully accomplished, you can then permit Alvarez and Barker to depart in peace.”

“If you so desire. And now suppose we rejoin my men.”

As the two move away Ashley’s eye is caught by the glitter of a small object upon the ground. He picks it up and discovers that it is a locket attached to a broken bit of chain. As he turns it over in his hands and seeks to examine it in the pale light of the moon, Navarro calls to him from the road: “Still surveying the battlefield, Ashley?”

“Coming,” says Jack. He drops his find into his hip pocket and proceeds to forget all about it.

“What is to be done with Carlos, now that he is here?” he inquires as he rejoins the Navarros.

“Carlos must return to Santiago at once,” declares El Terredo. “If I might add to the already large debt of gratitude, I would ask that you accompany him.”

“Gladly, Navarro. My intentions were to make Santiago at all speed. You will not have Carlos return by rail?”

“No; by horse.”

“There is a possibility of running into trouble upon his arrival at the city.”

“True; and to obviate that I have conceived a plan, not startlingly original. Carlos must disguise himself in feminine attire.”

“Ah, then I pose in the role of a knight errant escorting a beautiful maiden over the desert sands to her ancestral halls.”

Navarro laughs softly. “Is the part distasteful to you?” he asks.

“Nay. My only regret will be that Carlos is not the beauteous maid she will represent.”

“But he will look the part to perfection, I promise you. Half a dozen of my men will act as escort and conduct Carlos to the quinta. But I want the assurance of your active head and arm the greater part of the journey.”

“Thank you. And the female toggery—where is that to be procured?”

“That is a more difficult matter to adjust. Do you think the same wardrobe that fitted you out to-night could be called upon in this emergency?”

“It is possible,” replies Ashley. “There are women folks about the Hotel Americana, else the house would not present its unusually neat appearance. And there being women some of them probably have a dress or two to spare. I will endeavor to negotiate with the landlord for a suitable costume for your brother.”

“Excellent. I will await you here.”

The village is quiet as a churchyard when Ashley reaches the hotel. Lights are visible, however, and a few raps upon the portals bring forth the landlord.

Carter receives back his Grand Army habiliments without comment, but his face is a study when Ashley broaches the idea of a feminine rig.

“By gum,” he exclaims; “you’re the funniest customer I’ve run up against in all my Cuban hotel business, and I have met some queer ones, too.”

“My dear Carter,” confides Ashley, “as a matter of fact, I am not altogether right in my head. I am seized at frequent periods with the most absurd notions. Fortunately, I always have money enough to gratify my freakish ideas.”

“I am not so soft as I look,” remarks Carter, dryly. “I’ll see what I can do for you. How soon do you want the clothes?”

“As usual, at once. And while they are being hunted up I wish you would have my horse saddled, as I must take the road within the hour. It is getting along toward midnight. Where are the troopers—drunk or asleep?”

“Both, most of them,” is the laconic response, as the boniface takes himself off to consult with his wife upon the subject of providing a costume for a slender young man about five feet in height, as Ashley describes the prospective wearer of the garments.

Landlord Carter has a daughter who rejoices in the possession of three dresses. This alone should constitute her the belle of Jibana. For a sum sufficient to double her wardrobe the young lady is induced to part with the best of her three outfits and a bargain is consummated.

Miss Carter is not at all pleased at being routed from her slumbers, but she is a rather pretty young woman, and after five minutes of Ashley’s persuasive eloquence the landlord’s daughter beams with good nature and laughingly inquires: “Do you want a complete costume?”

“To the last ribbon,” declares Jack. “By Jove!” he adds, mentally, “if Carlos proposes to impersonate a young lady, he shall not lack verisimilitude through any neglect on my part.”

“A thousand thanks, Miss Carter,” says Ashley, when the clothes are finally tied in a big bundle and given into his possession.

“Isn’t this too much?” demurs the young lady, glancing at the gold coin which he places in her hands.

“Not a bit,” replies Jack. “If it is”—he glances around, sees that papa Carter has disappeared, and snatches a kiss from the young lady’s red lips—“if it is, will you permit me to balance the debt?” he finishes. Miss Carter blushes furiously, but she does not reprove the audacity. Good-looking young men, alas, are few in Jibana.

Half an hour later Ashley turns the bundle of apparel over to Navarro and receives the latter’s warmest thanks. “At what time do we start?” Jack inquires.

“At daybreak. You will need a few hours’ rest before then.”

“I can use them all right. But suppose Alvarez’ men come nosing around after their absent leader?”

“They will not find him. Follow me and I will lead you to our camp for the night. I shall send with you as a guide a man who knows the country well.”

With the dawn the little party is under way. Ashley stares in astonishment at the metamorphosis that has been effected in the person of Carlos. And as Carlos raises his veil and returns Jack’s stare with a glance in which amusement is mingled with blushing diffidence, the newspaper man laughs outright.

“I told you he would look the part to perfection,” remarks the elder Navarro, as he comes forward to say adios. “Take good care of him, Ashley, mi amigo. He is very dear to me.”

“For your sake I will guard him with jealous care,” replies Ashley. “Good-by, Navarro. I hope to see you again before many days.”

“Most heartily do I echo the wish. But who can say what the future has in store?” murmurs the insurgent leader. He watches the little cavalcade until it disappears down the forest trail and then turns toward the mountains with a heavy sigh.

Ashley drops to the rear of the little procession, lights a cigar and relapses into a reverie. Suddenly he bethinks him of the locket which he picked up on the scene of last night’s struggle.

Although his eyes never before rested upon it, as he looks at it now the locket has almost a familiar appearance. He is somewhat prepared for the surprise which follows his pressing of the spring.

The locket formerly contained two miniatures. One has been removed. That which yet remains is an exquisite portrait of Louise Hathaway.

As Ashley stares at the gold ornament with its broken bit of chain he realizes that he is looking upon the locket supposed to have been removed from the watch-chain of Roger Hathaway the night the aged cashier came to his death in the Raymond National Bank.