At the Point of the Sword | Page 5

bound for Valparaiso; if not, he will find us one for my master's sake. Once at sea, we shall be out of danger. General San Martin will give us welcome, and there are many Peruvians in his army."
Once my mother's wonderful nerve nearly failed her. "You will take care of him, José," she said brokenly.
"I will guard him with my life, se?ora!"
"I know it, I am sure of it; and some day yon will bring him back to me. God will reward you, José.--Good-bye, Juan, my boy. Oh how reluctant I am to let you go!"
I will not dwell on the sadness of that parting. The horses were waiting in the courtyard, and after the last fond embrace I mounted.
"Good-bye, mother!"
"Farewell, my boy. God keep you!" and as we moved away I saw her white handkerchief fluttering through the gloom.
At the gate the Indian waited for us, and he followed a few paces in the rear.
I thought this strange, and asked José about it.
"It may be well to have a friend to guard our backs," he replied.
So in the gathering darkness I stole away from my home, with my heart sore for my father's death and my mother's suffering. And it was the eve of my birthday--the eve of the day to which I had looked forward with such delight!
Being so young, I did not really understand the peril that surrounded me; but my faith in José was strong, and I felt confident that in taking me away he was acting for the best.
Our path through the park led us near the lake, and I glanced sorrowfully at its calm waters and fern-fringed border. I would have liked to linger a moment at its margin, dwelling on past joys; but José hurried me on, remarking there was no time to waste.
Only, as the great gates swung open, he let me stop, so that I might bid a silent adieu to the beautiful home where my happy days of childhood had been passed.
"Keep a brave heart," said he kindly; "we shall be back some day. And now for a word of advice. Ride carefully and keep your eyes open. I don't want to frighten you, but the sooner we're clear of Lima the better I shall be pleased."
With that he put spurs to his horse, and with the clanging of the gate in our ears we rode off on the road to Callao, while the gigantic Indian followed about twenty paces behind.
CHAPTER II.
AN EXCITING VOYAGE.
It may be that José's fears on my account had exaggerated the danger, as we reached Callao without interruption, and dismounted outside Mr. Warren's villa. Here the Indian took leave of us, but before going he unfastened a silver key from the chain round his neck, and pressed it into my hand.
"It may happen," said he, "that at some time or other you will need help. That key and the name of Raymon Sorillo will obtain it for you from every patriot in the mountains of Peru. For the present, farewell. When you return from Chili we shall meet again."
Without waiting for my thanks he bade adieu to José and then, spurring his horse into a gallop, he disappeared.
From the man who opened the gate in answer to our summons we learned that my father's friend was at home, and leaving our horses, we went immediately into the house. This English merchant had often been our guest, and it was soon abundantly evident that we had done right in trusting him. He was a short, round-faced man, with a florid complexion, twinkling eyes, and sandy hair. He was very restless and irritable, and had a queer habit of twiddling his thumbs backward and forward whenever his hands were unoccupied.
"How do, Joseph?" exclaimed he, jumping up. "Come to take that berth I offered you? No? Well, well, what a fool a man can be if he tries! Why, bless me, this is young Jack Crawford! Eight miles from home, and at this time of night too! Anything the matter? Get it out, Joseph, and don't waste time."
While Joseph was explaining the circumstances, the choleric little man danced about the room, exclaiming at intervals, "Ted Crawford gone? Dear, dear! Not a better fellow in South America! I'd shoot 'em all or string 'em up! The country's going to the dogs, and a man isn't safe in his own house! Eh? What? Hurt the boy? What's the boy to do with it? They can't punish him if his father had been fifty times a rebel!"
"That is so, sir," remarked José; "but he might meet with an unfortunate accident, or vanish mysteriously, or something of that kind. What's the use of making believe? Those who have got rid of the father won't spare the son, should he happen to stand in