Rita Part 10

They shook hands heartily. Rita somehow did not find words so readily as usual. "I too am glad," she said. "It is something--I have always wished to meet the 'Star of Hors.e.m.e.n!'"

"Oh, _please_ don't!" cried Jack, in distress. "That was just a joke of those idiots of mine. Good gracious! if you go to calling names, Miss Montfort, I shall not dare to come back again. Good night!"

It was long before Rita could sleep. She lay with wide-open eyes, conjuring up one scene after another, in all of which Captain Delmonte played the hero's part, and she the heroine's. He was rescuing her single-handed from a regiment of Spaniards; they were galloping together at the head of a troop, driving the Gringos like sheep before them. Or, he was wounded on the field of battle, and she was kneeling beside him, holding water to his lips, and blessing the good Cuban surgeon who had taught her bandaging in the camp among the hills. At length, hero and heroine, Cuban and Spaniard, faded away, and she slept peacefully.

"What is it? what is the matter?" Rita sprang up in her bed and listened. The sound that had awakened her was repeated: a knock at the door; a voice, low but imperative; the voice of Jack Delmonte.

"Miss Montfort! are you awake?"

"Yes; what has happened?"

"The Gringos! Dress yourself quickly, and come out. You can dress in the dark?"

"Yes; oh, yes! I will come. Manuela! wake! wake! don't speak, but dress yourself; the Spaniards are here."

Hastily, with trembling hands, the two girls put on their clothes. No thought now of how or what; anything to cover them, and that quickly.

They hurried out into the pa.s.sage; Delmonte stood there, carbine in hand. He spoke almost in a whisper, yet every word fell clearly on their strained ears.

"It's not Moreno; it's Velaya's _guerrilla_: we must get away before they fire the house. Give me your hand, Miss Montfort; you will be quiet, I know. Your maid?"

"Manuela, you will not speak!"

"No, senorita!" said poor Manuela, with a stifled sob.

"My horse is ready saddled," Delmonte went on. "If I can get you away before they see us--"

"Me! but what will become of the others?" cried Rita, under her breath.

"I cannot desert Manuela and Marm Prudence--Donna Prudencia."

"I am going to save you," said Jack Delmonte, quietly. "If for no other reason, I have just given my word to Donna Prudencia. The rest--I'll get back as soon as I can, that's all I can say. Follow me! hark!"

A shot rang out; another, and another. A hubbub of voices rose within and without the house; and at the same instant a bright light sprang up, and they saw each other's faces.

Delmonte ground his teeth. "Wait!" he said; and going a little way along the pa.s.sage, he peered from a window. The verandah swarmed with armed men. The door was locked and barred, but they were smas.h.i.+ng the window-shutters with the b.u.t.ts of their carbines. He glanced along the pa.s.sage. Inside the door stood Don Annunzio, in his vast white pajamas, firing composedly through a wicket; beside him his wife, as quietly loading and handing him the weapons. Behind them huddled the few house and farm servants, negroes for the most part, but among them was one intelligent-looking young Creole. Singling him out, Delmonte led him apart, and pointed to Manuela. "Your sister!" he said. "Your life for hers."

The youth nodded, and beckoned the frightened girl to stand beside him.

Rita saw no more, for Delmonte, grasping her hand firmly, led her through the winding pa.s.sage and into the inner courtyard. Pausing a moment on the verandah, they looked through the archway at one side, through which streamed a red glare. The cane patch was on fire, and blazing fiercely. The flames tossed and leaped, and in front of them men were running with torches, setting fire to sheds and out-houses. Their shouts, the crackling and hissing of the flames, the shots and cries from the front of the house, turned the quiet night wild with horror. A crash behind them told that the front door had yielded.

"It's run for it, now!" said Delmonte, quietly. "Now, then, child,--quick!"

A few steps, and they were beside the brown horse, standing saddled and bridled, and already quivering and straining to be off. Delmonte lifted Rita in his arms,--no time now for courtly mounting,--then sprang to the saddle before her. He spoke to the horse, who stood trembling, but made no motion to advance.

"Aquila, softly past the gate--then for life! good boy! Miss Montfort, put your arms around me, and hold fast. Don't let go unless I drop; then try to catch the reins, and give him his head. He knows the way."

Softly, slowly, Aquila crept to the archway. He might have been shod with velvet for any sound he made. Could they get away unseen? The men with the torches were busy at their horrid work; they could not be seen yet from the front of the house. The horse crept forward, silent as a phantom. They were clear of the archway. "Now!" whispered Delmonte. "For life, Aquila!" and Aquila went, for life.

CHAPTER XII.

FOR LIFE.

"If we can put the fire between us and them," said Captain Jack, "we shall get off."

For a moment it seemed as if they might do it. Already they saw the road before them, the sand glowing red in the firelight. A few more strides--Just then, a Spanish soldier came running round the corner of the burning cane-patch, whirling his blazing torch. He saw them, and raised a shout. "_Alerta! alerta!_ fugitives! after them! shoot down the Mambi dogs!"

There was a rush to the corner where a score of horses stood tethered to the fence. A dozen men leaped into the saddle and came thundering in pursuit. Aquila gave one glance back; then stretched his long lean neck, and settled into a gallop.

Before them the road lay straight for some distance, red here in the crimson light, further on white under a late moon. On one side the woods rose black and still, on the other lay open fields crossed here and there by barbed wire fences. No living creature was to be seen on the road. No sound was heard save the m.u.f.fled beat of the horse's hoofs on the sand, and behind, the shouts and cries of their pursuers. Were they growing louder, those shouts? Were they gaining, or was the distance between them widening? Rita turned her head once to look back. "I wouldn't do that!" said Delmonte, quietly. "Do you mind, Miss Montfort, if I swing you round in front of me? Don't be alarmed, Aquila is all right."

Before Rita could speak, he had dropped the reins on the horse's neck, and lifted her bodily round to the peak of the saddle before him. "I'm sorry!" he said, apologetically. "I fear it is very uncomfortable; but--I can--a--manage better, don't you see?" But to himself he was saying, "Lucky I got that done before the beggars began to shoot. Now they may fire all they like. Stupid duffer I was, not to start right."

He had felt the girl's light figure quiver as he lifted her.

"Don't be frightened, Miss Montfort," he said again. "There isn't a horse in the country that can touch Aquila when he is roused."

"I am not frightened," said Rita. "I am--excited, I suppose. It is like riding on wind, isn't it?"

It was true that she felt no fear; neither did she realise the peril of their position. It was one of the dreams come true, that was all. She was riding with Delmonte, with the Star of Hors.e.m.e.n. He was saving her life. They had ridden so before, often and often; only now--

_Pah!_ a short, sharp report was heard, and a little dust whiffed up on the road beside them. _Pah! pah!_ another puff of dust, and splinters flew from a tree just beyond them. Aquila twitched his ears and stretched his long neck, and they felt the stride quicken under them.

The road rushed by; they were half-way to the turn.

"Would you like to hold the reins for a bit?" asked Delmonte. "It isn't really necessary, but--thanks! that's very nice."

What was he doing? He had turned half round in the saddle; something touched her hair--the b.u.t.t of his carbine. "I _beg_ your pardon!" said Captain Jack. "I am very clumsy, I fear."

_Crack!_ went the carbine. Rita's ears rang with the noise; she held the reins mechanically, only half-conscious of herself. _Pah! pah!_ and again _crack!_ The blue rifle-smoke was in her eyes and nostrils, the Mauser bullets pattered like hail on the road; and still Aquila galloped on, never turning his head, never slackening his mighty stride, and still the road rushed by, and the turn by the hill grew nearer--nearer--

_Pah!_ Rita felt her companion wince. His left arm relaxed its hold and dropped at his side. With his right hand he carefully replaced his carbine in its sling.

"For life, Aquila!" he said softly, in Spanish; and once more Aquila gathered his great limbs under him, and once more the terrible pace quickened.

A stone? a hole in the road? who knows? In a moment they were all down, horse and riders flung in a heap together. The horse struggled to his knees, then fell again. He screamed, an agonising sound, that in Rita's excited mind seemed to mingle with the smoke and the dust in a cloud of horror. Every moment she expected to feel the iron hoofs cras.h.i.+ng into her, as the frenzied creature struggled to regain his footing.

Delmonte had sprung clear, and in an instant he was at Rita's side, raising her. "You are hurt? no? good! keep behind me, please."

He went to the horse, and tried to lift him, bent to examine him, and then shook his head. Aquila would not rise again; his leg was shattered.

Delmonte straightened himself and looked about him. If this had happened a hundred, fifty yards back! but now the woods were gone, and on either hand stretched a bare savannah, broken only by the hateful barbed wire fences. He drew his revolver quietly. The healthy brown of his face had gone gray; his eyes were like blue steel. He looked at Rita, and met her eyes fixed on him in a mute anguish of entreaty.

"Have no fear!" he said. "It shall be as it would with my own sister. I know these men; they shall not touch you alive."

He bent once more over the struggling beast, and even in his agony Aquila knew his master, and turned his eyes lovingly toward him, expecting help; and help came.

"Good-bye, lad!" The pistol cracked, and the tortured limbs sank into quiet.