Long Ago, Far Away, Esmè Stuart [the false prince .txt] 📗

with us. Come away, Catalina, and let us bolt ourselves into our room.' And the girl tried to drag her nurse away from the window.

But Etta smiled.

'I tell you, Felipa, the pirates cannot come into this place. It would take months to force a passage through the walls, and the gate is too well guarded. I will run down and ask Pedro what Andreas meant.'

Catalina would have liked to go herself, but did not know how to leave Felipa, who was sobbing from fear of she knew not what horrors. Yet poor Felipa, as she crouched near the window with her hand in that of her nurse, could not help admiring the courage of her English playfellow.

'Carlo admires Etta because she is brave,' she said to Catalina; 'she never thinks of danger for herself. I would so gladly not be afraid, but I cannot help it.'

'Never mind about being brave, my darling; that is for men and not for girls. What would the men have to do if we women were as bold as they are themselves? You see, the Señora Etta is English, and the people in her country are not as civilised as we Spanish folk. Dry your beautiful eyes, dearie, and don't be frightened. The noble Marquis will soon be returning, and then we shall find out that he has trapped all these wicked robbers, and that not one remains alive.'

Thus comforting her much-loved young lady, Catalina soon forgot her own fears till quite five minutes had passed away without the reappearance of Etta. What could the girl be doing? And why was there suddenly such a silence about the place? Catalina would not have been so brave had she known the truth or witnessed the assault that was now taking place at the gate of the outer wall.

When Etta ran down she was surprised to notice how few of the garrison could be seen. The loopholes from which poisoned arrows could be shot were deserted; the entrance to the council-room and the arsenal also remained unguarded. She could make nothing of it, so she had wrapped her dark mantle round her head and shoulders hoping to escape notice; but, to her great astonishment, none of the usual servants seemed to be about. She now hastened to the door that led into the courtyard. It stood open and the soft night air blew in.

'Pedro!' she called softly; but no porter answered. Even the Indian slaves were gone. Etta's curiosity was now fairly awakened. It could not be possible that the castle was deserted, and that she and Felipa were forgotten by every one!

'Carlo!' she cried louder, 'Andreas! Pedro!' No answer, and the girl stepped out into the courtyard and walked a little way down to the second gate. Then sounds indeed reached her ears: the clashing of swords, the loud tones of angry voices, the waving of torches, and the shrill whoops of Indians, mingled with many fierce English oaths.

There was no longer any doubt: the enemy, by some means, which of course Etta could not understand, had forced the passage leading over the ditch to the great gate, and were now between that and the inner courtyard, where, as Etta knew, no one remained to defend the gate of the castle itself. Her first impulse was to rush back and fly to some safer place; but so frightened was she that she felt hardly able to move; and at that moment, gazing at the small mass of struggling beings, she saw Carlo at the head of some dozen Indians barring the way before a far larger number of the enemy. This glance showed her also the form of the English lad; so much slighter and so much fairer of face than any about him that she could not mistake him as the torchlight fell on him.

'Carlo! Carlo!' she cried in her agony. No sound came back in answer but the yells and cries of the two parties; and with the instinct of helping her dear Felipa she at last found strength to turn away from the terrible sight and to fly back to the gate and so up the stairs, and as she ran she called out, 'Shut the gates: they are coming! They will soon overpower our people. Quick, make haste! Pedro, where are you?'

And still repeating these words, Etta dashed into the dwelling-room, looking so excited and pale that there was no longer any doubt that the worst had happened, as she exclaimed, 'We are lost! The castle will be taken! What can we do?'

Nor had brave Etta been mistaken. When Andreas had come to fetch Carlo, the faithful Indian had just discovered that the path known only to Don Estevan del Campo and a few of those in authority had been betrayed. Before he could do more than collect the few slaves and soldiers left in the castle, and station them at the entrance to the weakest portion of the wall, fetch Carlo as described, and with the mere handful of men then available make a brave stand, the chief gate of the castle was really taken. Andreas little knew that all his valour was useless; but it was otherwise with Carlo, who, as he threw himself into the mêlée, was conscious that no bravery could really be of any use. Indeed the attack on this side was but a ruse, for another body of men were quietly making their way to the principal gate of Santa Teresa, and were now being let in by one of the Marquis's officers, whom he had easily persuaded that a desperate encounter with these pirates would only result in their all being taken prisoners, and most likely killed.

It was Andreas who suddenly discovered the treachery, and, not understanding the real meaning of the extraordinary events which were taking place, now shouted to those about him that there was yet time to stop the entrance of those rascals.

In this rush Carlo was accidentally thrown down, and in falling his knee struck against a rocky projection, so that for a few seconds he lost consciousness. When he came to himself he tried hard to struggle to his feet, for he beheld at this moment a boy suddenly spring over the wall and come hastily towards him. Carlo heard the confused noise of the assailants and defenders, who had passed on and left him, so that he now found himself alone with a lad of about his own age, whom he had previously seen, and who was doubtless Henry Morgan's son.

Clenching his teeth, and grasping his sword, he tottered to his feet.

'Rascal! infidel! son of a pirate!' cried poor Carlo, not caring what names he bestowed. 'You may kill me, but I will sell my life dearly. You at least shall not come further. Go and tell your father that Carlo del Campo will not be a party to any treachery.'

Carlo threw himself on the tall fair Englishman, and would have dealt him a blow which would have been serious had not his injured knee proved at this minute so painful that he missed his aim, and once again fell on the ground. In a moment the supposed son of Henry Morgan was kneeling by the brave Spanish lad.

'Hold, sir,' he said, surprised at some English words that had fallen from Carlo, 'you are mistaking me. I am no pirate, and will never draw my sword in such an unlawful business. I am but a poor prisoner, though kindly treated, and my name is Harry Fenn.'

As he said these words Harry stooped down to pick up Carlo's sword, which had rolled away from him as he fell, and gently gave it back to the brave youth, who once more struggled to his feet, still blind with rage and disappointment.

'How can I believe you? That is a false story, some new treachery; no one who is with these robbers can be trusted. Stand to it, fellow, or yield to mercy; for you go no farther!' And, regardless of Harry's explanation, Carlo once again prepared to attack his enemy; but he was made more furious at seeing that his supposed foe was not even trying to defend himself.

'Stand to it, base scoundrel, and draw your sword if you have any spirit at all; or, by St. Teresa, I must fall upon you!'

Still Harry Fenn remained motionless. 'If you will not believe, it is no fault of mine. I have vowed to use no weapon during my captivity--at least in an unlawful cause.'

Carlo dropped his hands, for this speech spoke more than weapons. A true knight could not fall upon an unresisting foe; but it was a deep disappointment to find Harry was no pirate.

'But, indeed, Señor, let me help you back to the castle. Captain Morgan's men are by no means particular, and might unintentionally hurt you, though they have sworn to use no violence nor to fire at any one this night.'

'It is true, then, and you know it?' said Carlo, blushing with shame. 'This attack is all a farce, and our men are even now letting the pirates into the castle--is it not so? Tell me all you know.'

'It was the suggestion of the Governor; but I pray you make haste from hence, or you may repent of it,' said Harry, wishing the young Spaniard would retreat into the castle now, for he certainly was in considerable danger.

'And I am Don Estevan del Campo's son,' murmured the unhappy boy. 'Is it true that you are none of them? If so, I will accept your help; for my knee hurts me much, and I must get back to my sister.'

With some unwillingness Carlo put his hand on Harry Fenn's arm, and in spite of what had just taken place a sudden wave of sympathy seemed to flow between them; each felt that among the crowd of fierce men they seemed to be both of them sadly out of place.

The central gate was now deserted; the pirates and the defenders had both disappeared; so the two lads found no difficulty in entering unperceived by a side door into the castle itself.

'You are witness that I have never surrendered,' repeated Carlo several times, afraid, in spite of Harry's kindness, that a trap was being laid for him.

Harry almost smiled as he answered in the affirmative, adding:

'But how is it you talk English, Señor? Yesterday I could not make myself understood; and had I known you understood my language I would have spoken out.'

'My father wished us to learn it. Here, this way; follow me, sir. I do not know what has happened to the garrison, but I fear I cannot fight with this horrid pain. Our men have outrun their fears.'

The two now crept silently up a back way, avoiding the entrance-hall, where, from the sounds that rose toward them, it was not difficult to guess that the pirates were intent on refreshing themselves with what good things Santa Teresa could provide, and making up for the privations of the previous day and night by a carousal.

When Carlo limped up to his sister's door, he found it strongly barricaded within, and it was some time before Catalina could be persuaded to open it and admit him. Then her exclamations knew no end.

'Señorito! where have you been? And who is this young serpent?' she added, looking at Harry; but as she spoke in Spanish he did not understand her, though he noticed her look of disgust.

'Hush! Catalina, where is my sister? and Etta? Have you heard no news? Everything is lost, and this place is in the hands of the pirates. This youth was the same one Etta saw. He is a prisoner, he says. If so, he is a fellow-sufferer; and just now he behaved with much courtesy.'

'Come in, then, and let me bar the door once more. Oh, the noise those wretches have been making. It is as if all the demons were walking below. My poor Felipa is well hidden in that cupboard, and I made Etta go there too. Alas, alas, that I should be alive to hear such things! But, anyhow, they must kill me before they touch her. My cara Felipa! I believe she will die of fright.'

Harry Fenn stood by during this conversation, much perplexed at all he saw; for he did not understand that the Marquis had not acquainted his son with his treacherous surrender. His surprise was still greater when in another moment Etta, hearing Carlo's voice, appeared out of the dark cupboard where Catalina had insisted Felipa and Etta should hide, when on the return of the latter she had understood that something extraordinary was