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Dave Darrin at Vera Cruz, a novel by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 7. Dave Darrin To The Rescue |
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_ CHAPTER VII. DAVE DARRIN TO THE RESCUE Dave's sword hung at his side. His revolver was in its scabbard over his left hip, but just out of view of the sentry. As to his being in uniform, he realized that the night was so dark that there was little danger of his nationality being discovered. All these thoughts flashed through his mind in a twinkling, as they should with a good officer. Darrin's course of action was as swiftly decided. "Amigo," he replied, tranquilly. "Amigo de los prisoneros!" (Friends of the prisoners). By the time the second explanation had left his lips Dave had bounded forward, struck aside the rifle, and had gripped the sentry by the throat, bearing him to the ground. A blow from one of the young ensign's fists, and the fellow lay still. Espying trouble from the rear, Coxswain Riley started his men on a swift run toward the spot. In a few moments the sentry, doubtless badly scared, had been gagged, and bound hand and foot with the handy hitches of jack tars. "Leave him there," Darrin directed in an undertone. "Coxswain, post eight men around the house, and take command of them. I will take the other four men with me." Swiftly Darrin led his little squad around to the rear of the house, since the front was closed and dark. A doorway stood open, showing a room lighted by two candles that stood on a table. Around the table were seven men, eating and drinking. Plainly they had not heard the brief scuffle at the front. With a nod to his four men Darrin led the way inside. Instantly the seven men were on their feet, staring wildly at the intruders. One man started for a stack of rifles that stood in a corner, but Ensign Darrin hurled him back. "Don't let any man reach for a gun, or draw any sort of weapon," Darrin ordered, quickly. Then to the Mexicans, in Spanish, Dave shouted: "Stand where you are, and no harm will be done to you. We have not come here to molest you, but you hold Americans prisoners here, and we mean to take them away with us." "No, no," answered one of the Mexicans, smilingly, "you are mistaken. We have no prisoners here." Dave's heart sank within him for one brief moment. Had he made a mistake in invading this house, only to find that his mission was to be fruitless? Then he suspected Mexican treachery. "Pardon me," he urged in Spanish, "if I satisfy myself that you are telling the truth. Stand where you are, all of you, and no harm shall come to you. But don't make the mistake of moving or of reaching for weapons." Darrin strode swiftly past the group and stepped into a hallway, in which were stairs leading above. "Are there any Americans here," he shouted, "who want help? If so, there are American sailors here ready to give aid." From above there came a single exclamation of joy, followed by a scurrying of feet. From above sounded a voice demanding in Spanish: "Shall I let the prisoners go?" "You will have to," answered the same voice that had answered Dave. "We are attacked by _los marineros Americanos_." (American sailors). For the men in the other room now knew that there were more than these four seamen at hand. As soon as he heard voices inside Riley had cleverly caused his men to walk about the house with heavy tread, and the Mexicans believed themselves to be outnumbered. "Is it true that there are American sailors below?" called a man's husky voice. "A detachment from the United States Navy, sir," Dave replied, gleefully. "Are you Mr. Carmody?" "Yes, yes!" "Then bring down your party. We have force enough to resist any attempt to hold you, and if any harm is offered you, we shall avenge it. Shall I come upstairs for you, Mr. Carmody?" "If you don't mind," answered the voice of the man above. "There are two guards up here who seem undecided whether to shoot us or to let us pass." Instantly Ensign Darrin ran to the stairs, mounting them. Yet he was careful to take no chance of being surprised in the dark, for he well understood the treachery of the natives with whom he had to deal. However, Darrin reached the landing unattacked. Down the hallway he saw an open door, through which a dim light shone. Before the door were two Mexicans, each armed with a rifle. "You will permit the American party to pass," Dave commanded, bluntly, in the best Spanish that he had learned at Annapolis. One of the sentries again called out loudly, demanding instructions from below. "You will have to let the prisoners pass," came from downstairs. At that both sentries moved away from the door. "Will you be good enough to come out?" Darrin called, keeping his eye on the two guards, who stood glowering sullenly at him. He had not drawn his revolver, and did not wish to do so. The door was cautiously opened and a man's head appeared. One look at Dave and the door was flung wide by a tall, serious-eyed man whose hair was gray at the temples. "Come," he called to those behind him. "I see the uniform of our own Navy. I never paid much attention to it before, but at thus moment it's the most welcome sight in the world." Head erect, shoulders thrown back, an expression of deep gratitude in his eyes, John Carmody stepped out into the hallway. Behind him was a middle-aged woman, followed by two pretty girls. Then came another woman, younger than the first, who led two boys, one of four years, the other of six. "I was sent here," Dave announced, cap in hand, "to find and rescue John Carmody, his wife and two sons, and a Mrs. Deeming and her two daughters." "We are they," Mr. Carmody declared. "Do you know of any other prisoners, Americans or otherwise, who are held here by the bandits, sir?" Ensign Darrin inquired. "I do not know of any other captives here," replied Mr. Carmody, promptly. "In fact, I do not believe there are any others." "Mr. Carmody, if you will lead your party down the stairs and through the hallway to the room at the end of the passage, I will bring up the rear of this little American procession." Mr. Carmody obeyed without hesitation. One after another the trembling women followed, Mrs. Carmody leading her two young sons. Out in the hallway Mr. Carmody caught sight of the sailors, who stood revealed in the light of the room, as with watchful eyes they held the seven Mexicans at bay. "Mr. Carmody," called Dave, just before he entered that room, "I will ask you to lead your party out of doors. You will find other American sailors there, sir." Entering the room, Dave stood, cap still in hand, until the last of the American women had passed into the open. Then, replacing his cap, the young naval officer turned to the Mexican who had spoken to the others and who now stood sullenly eyeing the sailors. "I have carried out my orders," Dave declared, in Spanish. "I regret that I have no authority to punish you as you deserve. Instead, therefore, I will wish you good night." Signing to his sailors to pass out before him, Dave was the last to leave the room. All four of the young sailors, however, stood just outside, where their rifles might sweep the room, at need, until their officer had passed out. "Hicks," called Dave, to one of the party of sailors who had surrounded the house, "lead these people to the water. The rest of us will bring up the rear." Seeing the women and children of his party under safe guidance, Mr. Carmody turned back to speak to their rescuer. "Sir," asked the older man, "did you know that, on account of the failure to raise the ransom money, we were all, even the babies, to be put to death at sunrise?" "Yes, sir," Dave nodded. "Then perhaps you are able to understand the gratitude to which I shall endeavor to give some expression as soon as we are in a place of safety." "It is not my wish to hear expressions of gratitude, Mr. Carmody," Dave Darrin answered. "As to safety, however, I fancy we are safe enough already." Mr. Carmody shook his head energetically. "We have twenty men to the nine we saw in that house," Dave smiled. "Surely they will not endeavor to attack us." "Cosetta, the bandit, was he to whom you spoke in the house," replied John Carmody. "He has but a few men in the house, but there are twenty or thirty more sleeping in the stables behind the house. Altogether, unless he has sent some away, he must have more than sixty men hereabouts." "Then we must go on the double quick to our boat," returned Darrin. "Hicks," he called down the straggling line, which was now just outside the grounds and headed toward the mill, "keep the whole party moving as rapidly as possible." Yet Darrin was not afraid for himself, for he halted while the party hastened forward, scanning the darkness to his rear. Seeing the ensign standing there alone, Riley and half a dozen sailors came running back. "I'm afraid you're headed the wrong way, Riley," smiled Dave. "I hear there is a large force behind us, and we must embark as rapidly as possible." "It won't take us long to tumble into the launch, sir," the coxswain replied, doggedly, "but we won't leave our officer behind. We couldn't think of doing it." "Not even under orders?" Darrin inquired. "We'd hate to disobey orders, sir," Riley mumbled, looking rather abashed, "but-----" "Hark!" called Dave, holding up a hand. Back of the flowering hedge he heard the swift patter of bare feet. Out of the darkness came a flash of a pistol shot. It was answered instantly by a ragged but crashing volley. Long tongues of flame spat out into the night. The air was full of whistling bullets. Pseu! pss-seu! pss-seu! Sang the steel-jacketed bullets about the ears of the Americans. Then the sailor nearest Ensign Dave Darrin fell to the ground with a stifled gasp. _ |
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