The Jungle Trail/Chapter 3

IS excellency's lieutenant, knowing upon which side his maize cakes were greased, in a manner of speaking, made no effort to detain Señor Pasqual Garabito nor to take from him his disgraced sword: but allowed that fine caballero to flick the dust from his sleeves, right his disarranged attire, sheathe his blade, and stalk across the plaza with his back to the sneers and remarks of scorn that were hurled after him.

Bartolmeo Botello, knowing it would avail naught, entered no protest to this proceeding; moreover, he had anxieties of his own, for he found himself in perilous straits. Not only had he broken the governor's new law, but also he had broken the skin on the right arm of the governor's near friend, a transgression far more dangerous.

He could expect no mercy, therefore, when hailed before his excellency, yet he determined to enter what defense he could, trusting to the good fortune that generally followed him to extricate him from his present entanglement.

There were caballeros outspoken at this state of affair, but the lieutenant's glowering looks were enough to silence their tongues for the time being, since none who had followed De Balboa ranked high with the new governor, and all such were fair quarry for his thrusts.

Only when the officer would have bound Botello's hands behind his back was there loud protest, so loud that the lieutenant desisted, for it was traveling a long way toward perdition to so outrage one of good blood before a trial. Botello was a surrendered prisoner and would attempt no escape before his hearing.

He walked across the plaza slowly between the two soldiers, the lieutenant some paces in advance, and a throng of caballeros and natives bringing up the rear. A fray, knowing the story of the native girl, gave Botello a passing blessing with his eyes, and other men spoke their sympathy and allegiance without the use of words. Pasqual Garabito by this time had entered the residence of the governor like an honored guest, to be first at executive ears with the story.

Before his excellency's house the lieutenant hesitated, and so did the crowd, knowing that here the officer must make a decision; for one way led into the house and the other to the stockade with a small adobe hut inside it—a sort of temporary prison where Indians were housed when they had broken the laws.

The caballeros crowded close, and the lieutenant looked into their faces, then hammered at the door of the governor's residence with the hilt of his sword until a slave threw it open. He conducted his prisoner inside and left him just within the door, the two guards with him, while he went ahead to report.

Outside, the crowd waited silently yet with some impatience, scarcely knowing what to anticipate. Inside, Bartolmeo Botello stood against the wall with his arms folded across his breast, scorning to hold conversation with the two soldiers, who regarded him wrathfully since they were the new governor's men and had not seen much experience in the wilderness.

Then the lieutenant returned, two more guards with him.

"Conduct him to the stockade and guard him well," he ordered. "He will have his hearing within two hours, by his excellency's order. It will be plenty time enough then. His excellency dines now and cannot be disturbed."

Botello's face went white for an instant, and then he turned toward the door without a word, and it was thrown open, and he marched out in the midst of the guards.

"Fall back, caballeros! Fall back!" the lieutenant ordered.

"What do you with him?" demanded a voice from the throng; but the officer refused an answer.

The guards turned to the right with their prisoner, and at this the mutterings increased, for to the right was the stockade. Rodrigo Ruiz, from the midst of the crowd, made a sign, but Botello shook his head negatively, not desiring an attempt at rescue at this time.

The gate of the stockade was reached, and one of the guards stepped forward with thongs and indicated that Botello was to place his hands behind his back.

"Try it, dog!" Botello exclaimed; and the guard fell back.

"Prisoner," the lieutenant asked, "will you give me your word of honor as a caballero that you will make no attempt to escape before being fetched before his excellency for trial?"

"You could have had that, señor, without putting me in the stockade," Botello replied.

"It is his excellency's orders."

I understand, señor. You but do as you are told. You have my word. I am as interested in waiting for this trial as any man in all Antigua."

The heavy gates closed behind him, and Botella stretched his great arms and walked slowly around the interior of the stockade while sundry caballeros placed their eyes to knot-holes and observed him, and wondered much at his manner and what he would attempt. For those knowing Bartolmeo Botello anticipated that he surely would attempt something.

"Depart, good friends!" he called. "You only annoy my guards, and can be of no service to me at the present moment."

"Only say the word—" Ruiz cried.

"Careful, my friend, else you get into trouble along with me. The stockade is large enough to accommodate more men. Let us await the governor's trial of us. 'Tis to be a model of justice-rendering, I doubt not!"

He walked around the tiny adobe shack and to the other side of the stockade, away from those who watched, aware that on the outside a guard trailed him; and after a time he sat on a rock at the side of the adobe and looked at the sinking sun.

Now over the jungle's head the western sky was bathed in red and orange, and Botello thought of De Balboa and his comrades on the shore of the Great South Sea, and would have wished to be with them save for the presence here in Antigua of a black-eyed señorita who had exchanged vows of love with him while her duenna nodded.

It had worried Botello a bit that he had not gone to her father and asked permission to pay his court, as a caballero should, but he knew the answer he would have received, and, in addition, love makes men and maids do strange things. For both these reasons, too, had Señorita Inez spoken behind her duenna's back, and for none other, for the Señorita Inez Malpartida was a proper young person carefully reared, yet strong enough to answer the urgent and true call of her heart when it came.

So Botello watched the orange and red in the sky and wished that he was in De Balboa's camp and Inez, his bride, with him, that being the fairest wish he could devise; for in De Balboa's camp, he knew, he would be safe from his excellency, the governor, since De Balboa had a manner of protecting his loyal men and true.

Yet here he was in his excellency's stockade, due soon for trial, with the scales of justice already balanced against him through favoritism. He knew he had broken the law and so was entitled to punishment, yet he felt that his cause had been just, and that to punish him the governor also must punish Pasqual Garabito, else show himself an unjust man.

The orange and red disappeared in a flash, even as chalk is wiped from a slate with a sponge, and the deep dusk came. A moment that remained, while the soldiers lighted a huge torch at the gates, and lights appeared in the buildings around the plaza, and the breeze freshened; and then it was deep tropical night without moon—so deep that it seemed to smother the earth and hush the noises of the jungle and soften the dashing of the surf against the shore.

Botello heard a guard pass along the stockade in front of him, and wondered whether the governor had finished his evening meal. And then he heard a hiss, so low that it scarcely reached his ears and of such nature that any other man would have ignored it. But Botello, knowing what it meant, arose and walked slowly toward the fence of the stockade, making no noise with his feet.

"Master—here!" the hiss came again.

Botello followed the sound of it and finally reached the fence. He knew there was a knot-hole there, but he could not locate it in the dark.

"Si," he whispered.

"It is Tarama, master. I have heard how the governor had you locked up. As soon as it grew dark I came. I have here a rope made from vines, which I'll throw over the fence, master. You may fasten an end of it there and draw yourself up. If the guard comes near, I'll give warning."

"Thanks, Tarama, good native! But your master has no wish to escape at this time."

"They may punish you, señor—you, one of the great De Balboa's men."

"You do not quite understand, Tarama. I have given my word as a caballero to remain here until called forth for trial. Would you have me a perjurer?"

"Not so, master."

"Thanks, then, for your intentions. Watch well, Tarama, for I may have need of your services later—mayhap immediately after they have tried me."

"I understand, master; I'll be near always."

The hissing ceased; Botello heard not the slightest sound on the other side of the high fence, yet he knew that even by now Tarama was far from the stockade, moving like a shadow into the jungle, to reappear on the opposite side of the plaza.

Botello smiled to think of the eagerness with which this Tarama had sought to free him. It restored a part of his former belief in human nature. Tarama was a native, first had been a slave to Botello and later a companion on tramps through the wild jungle. Botello and a fray with De Balboa's party had taught him proper speech and a few things regarding religion; and now this. Tarama followed his master like a hound, ready always to serve him for the pure joy of doing service—which is by far the best sort of service after all.

Now Botello walked back to the rock against the adobe, and sat down again, looking occasionally toward the gate and wondering how long it would be before the governor sent for him. Minutes passed and hunger gnawed at him, for he had eaten nothing since morning and wanted meat; and then he heard another call from the stockade fence, this time in the low sibilant tones of a woman.

"Señor Botello! Señor Botello!"

He walked swiftly to the fence again, careful to make no noise, and when he reached it he held breath for a moment to be sure the guard was not approaching. There was no sound of steps, and he spoke:

"Si?"

"I have risked maidenly modesty, señor, to approach you in this manner, slipping from the house like some light woman—hence you may well appreciate my effort."

"It is appreciated, señorita."

"There may be a chance of escape for you. No doubt it may be arranged."

"Softly, señorita—the guard—"

"Is bribed, and will not interrupt, señor."

"It were too much, señorita, for you to do that. The risk is too great. Men may use their tongues to mouth your name. Ah, it is too much!"

"Then you think of that, señor? You surely have some feeling for me then. You appreciate what I have risked to hold speech with you here and in this manner."

"I am not worth it, señorita!"

"I choose to think differently. I fear you have affronted our governor greatly by your attack on his friend. He may be inclined to make use of harsh measures. Were you freed of all blame, yet banished to De Balboa's camp, would you accept the sentence, if—if—I went with you—as bride?"

"Señorita!" he whispered hoarsely. "Yet that cannot be—"

"Ah, señor, there are more ways than one of arranging things. Perchance if the governor ordered it—"

"He would not. There is your father."

"Who will do as the governor orders, señor, in all things."

"I cannot see how it may be done."

"Do you wish it possible, señor?"

"By the saints! So much true happiness for such an unworthy man—"

"You wish it much?"

"With my whole heart, señorita."

"You will give me love that never will turn cold?" "I safely can promise that, señorita."

"And will you strive to carve your name on page of history even as has your leader?"

"With my last strength, for your sake, loved one! But how can you accomplish such a thing? I will not have you place yourself in a position where men will think ill of you. You have risked much to speak to me in this way."

"Leave the method all to me, señor. Be not surprised at anything you may hear at your trial. Every move I make shall be made with care and regard for your good name."

"Ah, señorita!" he whispered. "Could I but see your face now, touch your hands, your lips. Could I but hear your voice free and fair without the guise of whisperings!"

"Soon, señor—soon! But give me your honorable word as to this affair, señor. I may not tarry here longer."

"Do you need my good word that I'll stand by such a bargain? I am receiving the great favor, not granting it. Ah, Inez, beloved—"

A gasp stopped him. Silence for a moment, then the whispering again, but in a new tone.

"Inez, say you? I am no Inez, señor! Would the fair Inez you mention risk her reputation and her good name to approach you like this?"

"I—I did not recognize your voice—"

"Am I so sure of that, señor? Did you not, rather, let me go on with my talk, offer myself to you like some bronze native girl, cheapen me—?"

"Señorita! Would I treat any woman so?"

"Inez! So it was Inez you were promising to love and cherish, with whom you were willing to live in De Balboa's camp on the shore of the Great South Sea! I have loved you, señor Botello, enough to forget my breeding and lower myself by this indiscretion. But I can hate as well as love, señor! No man relishes Carlotta Bonilla as an enemy!"

"Señorita! You?"

"I can make arrangements one way as well as another, señor—to punish as well as to save!"

"I have done nothing, señorita, to merit your love. I have had no thought of you."

"This is an insult added!"

"Forget this scene, señorita, as I will forget it. My knowledge of your indiscretion will not be spread. Return to your father's dwelling, I beg of you, and attempt no more night affairs of this sort. Let the proper man seek you out—"

"Now you would give me rules of conduct—duenna!" she cried. She hissed the last word, but Botello had no time to search for insult in it. He was cursing himself for having betrayed his love without ascertaining his visitor's identity first.

He had no delusions regarding Carlotta Bonilla, though he spoke her fairly. It was common knowledge that her character was not of the best, though she was of a proud family. Here in the New World her father had fallen on evil days in an attempt to repair his shattered fortunes. It was whispered that the price of his present affluence and standing with the governor was his daughter's favor. In time, his purse full, he would go back to Seville, and by virtue of that full purse see his daughter wedded to a courtier. In the mean time, his excellency saw to it that Bonilla and his daughter were not snubbed by other folk, though they were treated distantly.

That was what Carlotta had meant, perhaps, by her intimation of influence. The governor would pardon Botella's transgression and send him away, to exile in De Balboa's camp, if she asked it. He would marry Botello to his cast-off, glad to be rid of her, of them both. Perhaps already she had arranged it. That was another score to settle with the governor.

And now that she had failed to gain his consent, would she not turn against him? Would not her influence with the governor obtain for him a severe sentence?

Had he seen her now, he would not have doubted it. Like a shadow, Señorita Carlotta Bonilla crept to the jungle's edge, where an Indian girl awaited her; and they hurried behind the buildings and so around the plaza and to the rear of the governor's house, where she had been dining that evening with her father.

Through a rear door they crept, and to the room set apart for the use of Señorita Carlotta, and there she whispered a message in the ear of the Indian maid and sent her away.

She sat beside the open window then, looking out into the black night and waiting for the native girl to do her errand. Her breasts were rising and falling rapidly as she breathed in anger, and she bit her lower lip until the blood came, and clenched her two tiny fists until the nails cut into the palms.

Minutes passed, and a shape approached outside the window, to come to a stop beneath it.

"Señor," she whispered.

"Señorita?"

"The girl sent you?"

"Si, señorita. In what manner may I serve you?"

"There is need of little speech between us, Señor Garabito. You desire a certain woman who has eyes for another man. I have desired a certain man who has eyes only for that other woman."

"Have desired, señorita?"

"You speak correctly, señor. We'll not go into details, please. Just let me say that you can hate him no more than I do at this moment. You have influence with his excellency. See stern justice given the man in the stockade, señor, and accept my thanks. Were I able to get the governor's ear I would forget myself enough to ask it in person. No doubt his excellency would grant my request as a courtesy to his friend, my father."

It was well for Señor Garabito that she could not see the smile that flashed across his face then.

"I believe it may be arranged, señorita," he said.

"Adios, señor!"

"Adios!"