a charmed life-第2章

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sergeant　of　the　regiment　that　lay　hidden　in　the　heights。　　If　the
Americans　advanced　toward　Mayaguez；　these　men　were　to　wait　until
the　head　of　the　column　drew　abreast　of　them；　when　they　were　to
fire。　　The　report　of　their　rifles　would　be　the　signal　for　those　in
the　hill　above　to　wipe　out　the　memory　of　Adhuntas。

Chesterton　had　been　riding　at　a　gallop；　but；　as　he　reached　the
place　where　the　men　lay　in　ambush；　he　pulled　El　Capitan　to　a　walk；
and　took　advantage　of　his　first　breathing　spell　to　light　his　pipe。
He　had　already　filled　it；　and　was　now　fumbling　in　his　pocket　for
his　match…box。　　The　match…box　was　of　wood　such　as　one　can　buy；
filled　to　the　brim　with　matches；　for　one　penny。　　But　it　was　a　most
precious　possession。　　In　the　early　days　of　his　interest　in　Miss
Armitage；　as　they　were　once　setting　forth　upon　a　motor　trip；　she
had　handed　it　to　him。

〃Why；〃　he　asked。

〃You　always　forget　to　bring　any；〃　she　said　simply；　〃and　have　to
borrow　some。〃

The　other　men　in　the　car；　knowing　this　to　be　a　just　reproof；
laughed　sardonically；　and　at　the　laugh　the　girl　had　looked　up　in
surprise。　　Chesterton；　seeing　the　look；　understood　that　her　act；
trifling　as　it　was；　had　been　sincere；　had　been　inspired　simply　by
thought　of　his　comfort。　　And　he　asked　himself　why　young　Miss
Armitage　should　consider　his　comfort；　and　why　the　fact　that　she　did
consider　it　should　make　him　so　extremely　happy。　　And　he　decided　it
must　be　because　she　loved　him　and　he　loved　her。

Having　arrived　at　that　conclusion；　he　had　asked　her　to　marry　him；
and　upon　the　match…box　had　marked　the　date　and　the　hour。　　Since
then　she　had　given　him　many　pretty　presents；　marked　with　her
initials；　marked　with　his　crest；　with　strange　cabalistic　mottoes
that　meant　nothing　to　any　one　save　themselves。　　But　the　wooden
matchbox　was　still　the　most　valued　of　his　possessions。

As　he　rode　into　the　valley　the　rays　of　the　moon　fell　fully　upon
him；　and　exposed　him　to　the　outpost　as　pitilessly　as　though　he　had
been　held　in　the　circle　of　a　search…light。

The　bronzed　Mausers　pushed　cautiously　through　the　screen　of　vines。
There　was　a　pause；　and　the　rifle　of　the　sergeant　wavered。　　When　he
spoke　his　tone　was　one　of　disappointment。

〃He　is　a　scout；　riding　alone；〃　he　said。

〃He　is　an　officer；〃　returned　the　sharp…shooter；　excitedly。　　〃The
others　follow。　　We　should　fire　now　and　give　the　signal。〃

〃He　is　no　officer；　he　is　a　scout；〃　repeated　the　sergeant。　　〃They
have　sent　him　ahead　to　study　the　trail　and　to　seek　us。　　He　may　be　a
league　in　advance。　　If　we　shoot　HIM；　we　only　warn　the　others。〃

Chesterton　was　within　fifty　yards。　　After　an　excited　and　anxious
search　he　had　found　the　match…box　in　the　wrong　pocket。　　The　eyes　of
the　sharp…shooter　frowned　along　the　barrel　of　his　rifle。　　With　his
chin　pressed　against　the　stock　he　whispered　swiftly　from　the　corner
of　his　lips；　〃He　is　an　officer！　　I　am　aiming　where　the　strap
crosses　his　heart。　　You　aim　at　his　belt。　　We　fire　together。〃

The　heat　of　the　tropic　night　and　the　strenuous　gallop　had　covered
El　Capitan　with　a　lather　of　sweat。　　The　reins　upon　his　neck　dripped
with　it。　　The　gauntlets　with　which　Chesterton　held　them　were　wet。
As　he　raised　the　matchbox　it　slipped　from　his　fingers　and　fell
noiselessly　in　the　trail。　　With　an　exclamation　he　dropped　to　the
road　and　to　his　knees；　and　groping　in　the　dust　began　an　eager
search。

The　sergeant　caught　at　the　rifle　of　the　sharpshooter；　and　pressed
it　down。

〃Look！〃　he　whispered。　　〃He　IS　a　scout。　　He　is　searching　the　trail
for　the　tracks　of　our　ponies。　　If　you　fire　they　will　hear　it　a
league　away。〃

〃But　if　he　finds　our　trail　and　returns〃

The　sergeant　shook　his　head。　　〃I　let　him　pass　forward；〃　he　said
grimly。　　〃He　will　never　return。〃

Chesterton　pounced　upon　the　half…buried　matchbox；　and　in　a　panic
lest　he　might　again　lose　it；　thrust　it　inside　his　tunic。

〃Little　do　you　know；　El　Capitan；〃　he　exclaimed　breathlessly；　as　he
scrambled　back　into　the　saddle　and　lifted　the　pony　into　a　gallop；
〃what　a　narrow　escape　I　had。　　I　almost　lost　it。〃

Toward　midnight　they　came　to　a　wooden　bridge　swinging　above　a
ravine　in　which　a　mountain　stream；　forty　feet　below；　splashed　over
half…hidden　rocks；　and　the　stepping　stones　of　the　ford。　　Even
before　the　campaign　began　the　bridge　had　outlived　its　usefulness；
and　the　unwonted　burden　of　artillery；　and　the　vibrations　of
marching　men　had　so　shaken　it　that　it　swayed　like　a　house　of　cards。
Threatened　by　its　own　weight；　at　the　mercy　of　the　first　tropic
storm；　it　hung　a　death　trap　for　the　one　who　first　added　to　its
burden。

No　sooner　had　El　Capitan　struck　it　squarely　with　his　four　hoofs；
than　he　reared　and；　whirling；　sprang　back　to　the　solid　earth。　　The
suddenness　of　his　retreat　had　all　but　thrown　Chesterton；　but　he
regained　his　seat；　and　digging　the　pony　roughly　with　his　spurs；
pulled　his　head　again　toward　the　bridge。

〃What　are　you　shying　at；　now？〃　he　panted。　　〃That's　a　perfectly　good
bridge。〃

For　a　minute　horse　and　man　struggled　for　the　mastery；　the　horse
spinning　in　short　circles；　the　man　pulling；　tugging；　urging　him
with　knees　and　spurs。　　The　first　round　ended　in　a　draw。　　There　were
two　more　rounds　with　the　advantage　slightly　in　favor　of　El　Capitan；
for　he　did　not　approach　the　bridge。

The　night　was　warm　and　the　exertion　violent。　　Chesterton；　puzzled
and　annoyed；　paused　to　regain　his　breath　and　his　temper。　　Below
him；　in　the　ravine；　the　shallow　waters　of　the　ford　called　to　him；
suggesting　a　pleasant　compromise。　　He　turned　his　eyes　downward　and
saw　hanging　over　the　water　what　appeared　to　be　a　white　bird　upon
the　lower　limb　of　a　dead　tree。　　He　knew　it　to　be　an　orchid；　an
especially　rare　orchid；　and　he　knew；　also；　that　the　orchid　was　the
favorite　flower　of　Miss　Armitage。　　In　a　moment　he　was　on　his　feet；
and　with　the　reins　over　his　arm；　was　slipping　down　the　bank；
dragging　El　Capitan　behind　him。　　He　ripped　from　the　dead　tree　the
bark　to　which　the　orchid　was　clinging；　and　with　wet　moss　and　grass
packed　it　in　his　leather　camera　case。　　The　camera　he　abandoned　on
the　path。　　He　always　could　buy　another　camera；　he　could　not　again
carry　a　white　orchid；　plucked　in　the　heart　of　the　tropics　on　the
night　peace　was　declared；　to　the　girl　he　left　behind　him。　　Followed
by　El　Capitan；　nosing　and　snuffing　gratefully　at　the　cool　waters；
he　waded　the　ford；　and　with　his　camera　case　swinging　from　his
shoulder；　galloped　up　the　opposite　bank　and　back　into　the　trail。

A　minute　later；　the　bridge；　unable　to　recover　from　the　death　blow
struck　by　El　Capitan；　went　whirling　into　the　ravine　and　was　broken
upon　the　rocks　below。　　Hearing　the　crash　behind　him；　Chesterton
guessed　that　in　the　jungle　a　tree　had　fallen。

They　had　started　at　six　in　the　afternoon　and　had　covered　twenty　of
the　forty　miles　that　lay　between　Adhuntas　and　Mayaguez；　when；　just
at　the　outskirts　of　the　tiny　village　of　Caguan；　El　Capitan
stumbled；　and　when　he　arose　painfully；　he　again　fell　forward。

Caguan　was　a　little　church；　a　little　vine…covered　inn；　a　dozen　one…
story　adobe　houses　shining　in　the　moonlight　like　whitewashed
sepulchres。　　They　faced　a　grass…grown　plaza；　in　the　centre　of　which
stood　a　great　wooden　cross。　　At　one　corner　of　the　village　was　a
corral；　and　in　it　many　ponies。　　At　the　sight　Chesterton　gave　a　cry
of　relief。　　A　light　showed　through　the　closed　shutters　of　the　inn；
and　when　he　beat　with　his　whip　upon　the　door；　from　the　adobe　houses
other　lights　shone；　and　white…clad　figures　appeared　in　the
moonlight。　　The　landlord　of　the　inn　was　a　Spaniard；　fat　and
prosperous…looking；　but　for　the　moment　his　face　was　eloquent　with
such　distress　and　misery　that　the　heart　of　the　young　man；　who　was
at　peace　with　all　the　world；　went　instantly　out　to　him。　　The
Spaniard　was　less　sympathetic。　　When　he　saw　the　khaki　suit　and　the
campaign　hat　he　scowled；　and　ungraciously　would　have　closed　the
door。　　Chesterton；　apologizing；　pushed　it　open。　　His　pony；　he
explained；　had　gone　lame；　and　he　must　have　another；　and　at　once。
The　landlord　shrugged　his　shoulders。　　These　were　war　times；　he
said；　and　the　American　officer　could　take　what　he　liked。　　They　in
Caguan　were　noncombatants　and　could　not　protest。　　Chesterton
hastened　to　reassure　him。　　The　war；　he　announced；　was　over；　and
were　it　not；　he　was　no　officer　to　issue　requisitions。　　He　intended
to　pay　for　the　pony。　　He　unbuckled　his　belt　and　poured　upon　the
table　a　handful　of　Spanish　doubloons。　　The　landlord　lowered　the
candle　and　silently　counted　the　gold　pieces；　and　then　calling　to
him　two　of　his　fellow…villagers；　crossed　the　tiny　plaza　and　entered
the　corral。

〃The　American　pig；〃　he　whispered；　〃wishes　to　buy　a　pony。　　He　tells
me　the　war　is　over；　that　Spain　has　surrendered。　　We　know　that　must
be　a　lie。　　It　is　more　probable　he　is　a　deserter。　　He　claims　he　is　a
civilian；　but　that　also　is　a　lie；　for　he　is　in　uniform。　　You；　Paul；
sell　him　your　pony；　and　then　wait　for　him　at　the　first　turn　in　the
trail；　and　take　it　from　him。〃

〃He　is　armed；〃　protested　the　one　called　Paul。

〃You　must　not　give　him　time　to　draw　his　revolver；〃　ordered　the
landlord。　　〃You　and　Pedro　will　shoot　him　from　the　shadow。　　He　is
our　country's　enemy；　and　it　will　be　in　a　good　cause。　　And　he　may
carry　despatches。　　If　we　take　them　to　the　commandante　at　Mayaguez
he　will　reward　us。〃

〃And　the　gold　pieces？〃　demanded　the　one　called　Paul。

〃We　will　divide　them　in　three　parts；〃　said　the　landlord。

In　the　front　of　the　inn；　surrounded　by　a　ghostlike　group　that　spoke
its　suspicions；　Chesterton　was　lifting　his　saddle　from　El　Capitan
and　rubbing　the　lame　foreleg。　　It　was　not　a　serious　sprain。　　A　week
would　set　it　right；　but　for　that　night　the　pony　was　useless。
Impatiently；　Chesterton　called　across　the　plaza；　begging　the
landlord　to　make　haste。　　He　was　eager　to　be　gone；　alarmed　and
fearful　lest　even　this　slight　delay　should　cause　him　to　miss　the
transport。　　The　thought　was　intolerable。　　But　he　was　also　acutely
conscious　that　he　was　very　hungry；　and　he　was　too　old　a　campaigner
to　scoff　at　hunger。　　With　the　hope　that　he　could　find　something　to
carry　with　him　and　eat　as　he　rode　forward；　he　entered　the　inn。

The　main　room　of　the　house　was　now　in　darkness；　but　a　smaller　room
adjoining　it　was　lit　by　candles；　and　by　a　tiny　taper　floating
before　a　crucifix。　　In　the　light　of　the　candles　Chesterton　made　out
a　bed；　a　priest　bending　over　it；　a　woman　kneeling　beside　it；　and
upon　the　bed　the　little　figure　of　a　boy　who　tossed　and　moaned。　　As
Chesterton　halted　and　waited　hesitating；　the　priest　strode　past
him；　and　in　a　voice　dull　and　flat　with　grief　and　weariness；　ordered
those　at　the　door　to　bring　the　landlord　quickly。　　As　one　of　the
group　leaped　toward　the　corral；　the　priest　said　to　the　others：
〃There　is　another　attack。　　I　have　lost　hope。〃

Chesterton　advanced　and　asked　if　he　could　be　of　service。　　The
priest　shook　his　head。　　The　child；　he　said；　was　the　only　son　of　the
landlord；　and　much　beloved　by　him；　and　by　all　the　village。　　He　was
now　in　the　third　week　of　typhoid　fever　and　the　period　of
hemorrhages。　　Unless　they　could　be　checked；　the　boy　would　die；　and
the　priest；　who　for　many　miles　of　mountain　and　forest　was　also　the
only　doctor；　had　exhausted　his　store　of　simple　medicines。

〃Nothing　can　stop　the　hemorrhage；〃　h